


A Work in Progress: You and I

by adoctoraday, RiotFalling, WhiteIronWolf (adoctoraday)



Series: Bound To You [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Cuddling, Dom!Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Soft Boys, Sub!Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, and he gets one, canon adjacent, cookies and coffee is the breakfast of champions, home improvement as a method of flirting, paint fight, with art!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/adoctoraday, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/WhiteIronWolf
Summary: It’s not just the cabin that’s under construction, it’s Tony and Bucky and this thing between them that was supposed to be temporary and is seeming less and less so as time goes on.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Bound To You [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806055
Comments: 109
Kudos: 285





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See ends notes for spoilery light warnings/tags!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by WhiteIronWolf
> 
> [You can find me @TheRollingStonys on tumblr! Just ask for Mod Stella!](https://therollingstonys.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Bucky waits (not so) patiently on the steps of his building, keeping a sharp eye on the traffic for the silver Audi Tony had texted him he’d be driving today. He feels jittery and nervous and excited like he’s 15 again and getting his hand under Juliette Lewis’s skirts for the first time.

He laughs softly at himself, shaking his head over his….lovesick behavior? No, lovesick isn’t the right term. Regardless of the thing he’d thought yesterday while on the phone with Tony, he’s _not_ in love with the man.

He’s not.

So yea, maybe he stayed up late after working at the garage till 3am to make cookies for the drive, that doesn’t mean anything other than that he’s infatuated. It’s...infatuation, _not love_. Butterflies and shaky hands and breathless anticipation.

“You’re a goddamn fool Barns,” Bucky mutters to himself, earning him a wary side eye from a woman passing on the sidewalk below. He smiles and she walks faster, head bowed and body stiff, eager to get away from the weirdo on the stairs.

Scoffing a laugh, he scrubs his hands over his face, pressing the heels into his eyes so they throb and explode with color behind his closed lids. He’s actually feeling good today, despite his four hours of sleep that got interrupted twice by nightmares.

He’s a little worried about what not having a scene this week will mean for his symptoms, but he’s hopeful it won’t be _too_ bad. A horn honking has his head popping up to find a sleek silver Audi idling in front of him, the tint on the windows too dark to see inside.

The passenger side window whirs downward a moment later and Bucky grins when Tony leans forward and looks at him over his sunglasses. “Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t happen to have a man bun, would you? I’m looking for a hipster, a specific one, mind you, I didn’t just wake up this morning with a craving.”

Bucky laughs loudly, grinning at the other man before tilting his head to the side to show off the aforementioned man bun. “This what you’re lookin for sweetheart?” he calls back, grinning wider when Tony flushes at the pet name.

Bucky grabs the container of cookies and his toolbox before making his way to the car and sliding inside. He goes to shut the door but it’s already closing automatically and then a warm British voice is murmuring, “Good Morning Bucky, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

Bucky grins widely, “Good to uh, _see_ you too JARVIS,” he replies before turning to Tony, smile softening fondly. “Hey baby, it’s _very_ good to see you,” he murmurs, leaning in to brush a kiss to Tony’s cheek before leaning back, nose filled with the scent of cologne, clean skin and something metallic that isn’t his arm.

Tony sighs softly and smiles at him just as warmly, “It’s good to see you too,” he replies. They stare at each other in silence for a long moment before Tony blushes and points to the cup holder, “I brought you coffee. I don’t know how you take it, so there’s some sugar and creamer in the little compartment, wait, here—”

He leans over and taps a spot on the dash that glows blue and then opens to reveal a small refrigerated compartment filled with a few sticks of cheese, two bottles of water, some jerky and the aforementioned creamer. Bucky grabs two and then some sugar packets and goes about measuring it out slowly, testing the coffee first to gauge how bitter or aromatic it is.

He can feel Tony watching him and when he finishes tinkering with the coffee and looks up, he’s amused to find Tony looking at him like he’s a pig with wings. “What?” he asks with a soft laugh, “you never seen a man make his coffee?”

Tony shakes his head and puts the car into gear before pulling out smoothly without even checking his mirrors. “You’re very particular about your coffee, hmm? One might even say you have a _hip_ way of making it,” he teases, shooting Bucky a grin along with his terrible pun.

“That was terrible, please try harder,” he murmurs with a wink, sipping his coffee nonchalantly while Tony huffs and shoots him a playfully disgruntled look.

“What, are my jokes too _mainstream_ for you?” he asks, a smirk creeping up around the edges of his mouth, hands steady as he navigates them in and out of traffic smoothly.

“Mmhmm, I prefer vintage,” Bucky replies, “it’s got more of my vibe.”

“Your _vibe??_ Oh my god that’s it, get out of my car,” Tony exclaims, not slowing down the vehicle one bit, his grin wide and amused as they hit the highway and start to leave the city behind them.

Bucky just chuckles and opens the container of cookies, “You want one?” he offers, already pulling two out for himself.

Tony glances over, brow furrowing, “What are they?” he asks curiously.

“Rugelach,” Bucky replies smoothly, grinning when Tony’s brows rise, “it’s a recipe from my ma’s family,” he explains. “It’s real old, family legend has that it was passed down by the savtas to each new generation of daughters.”

“So what’s in it?” Tony asks, “and what’s that word, savta?”

“It’s Hebrew for grandmother or grandfather. I meant grandmother in this case. These ones have cinnamon, raisins, walnuts and a little chocolate in em, but the recipes vary family to family.”

Tony nods thoughtfully, “Sounds good to me, I’ll take two,” he says, holding out his hand while keeping the wheel steady and his eyes on the road. Bucky carefully picks out two and sets them in his palm, watching as the other man bites into one and then immediately hums and does an adorable little squirm of delight in his seat.

“Oh my _god_ this is good,” he groans, “god what are you, a Keebler elf?”

Bucky laughs and holds the open container out to Tony, “Eat as many as you want darlin, I made em for you.”

Tony eyes him for a minute before stealing two more and dropping them into his lap, popping the second half of the first he’d bit into his mouth. “I didn’t know you’re Jewish,” he murmurs curiously around a bite of cookie.

“Based that on my cock, huh?” Bucky murmurs wryly, alarm burgeoning as Tony laughs and then chokes, coughing and spluttering while Bucky fumbles for Tony’s coffee and holds it out.

“Drink!” he orders, “god, please don’t die for my dumb jokes,” he murmurs with a weak laugh, heart racing in his chest while Tony sips his coffee and clears his throat. “You ok?” he asks, trying not to sound like a worried mother.

Tony nods, spots of pink on his cheeks from coughing, “Yea I’m good, I just didn’t think your cock would kill me like _this,”_ he jokes, shooting Bucky a grin and a wink. Bucky laughs and shakes his head, settling back into his seat.

This is going to be an interesting drive.

* * *

They pull up in front of the cabin just a little over an hour later, still laughing over a story Bucky had told about one of the customers at the garage he’d had this week.

“Wow this is gorgeous,” he murmurs, climbing out of the car eagerly. He inhales deeply, eyes falling shut as his nose is filled with the scents of pine and grass, damp earth and rain.

 _God_ it’s perfect.

When he opens his eyes he finds Tony watching him with a small smile on his face and smiles back before jerking his chin at the house, “Wanna show me around?” he suggests, grabbing his toolbox from the car before he follows Tony up the stairs and onto the porch. It’s nicely sized with a few wicker chairs and a small table, the yard spacious around them before it melts into trees. He peers over Tony’s shoulder and sees water in the distance—a lake probably, and then turns back as Tony pushes the door open and glances back over his shoulder at Bucky.

They step into the house and Bucky inhales again as he sets his toolbox down just inside the door, smiling at the scent of cedar. The living room is off to the left, smaller than Bucky would have imagined for someone of Tony’s wealth. It’s cozy, with a warm looking couch and a quilt resting on the back of it, clearly hand stitched and well loved, and Bucky smiles softly, a little sad that Tony doesn’t get to spend more time here.

Tony waves broadly, “Well, this is it,” he says lamely and Bucky can’t help but chuckle softly and nod.

“Right, well, you wanna show me the rest?” he asks teasingly, grinning at the way Tony rolls his eyes dramatically before leading Bucky into the kitchen.

“Food gets made here, apparently,” Tony says dryly, “not that I would know.”

“Can’t cook?” Bucky asks, tracing his fingertips against the granite countertops.

“I know a few recipes, but yea, it’s safer generally if I’m not the one cooking,” Tony admits, waving as he walks away, into what looks like an open concept office. “My office for when I’m here and want to do work, which is... most of the time I’m here,” he explains, looking around briefly before leading Bucky out into a glassed in room that’s filled with potted plants that are, somehow, alive and thriving.

Bucky gives them a pointed look and Tony grins, “I have someone take care of the property. These were all left here back when Pep and I were still together,” he says, voice softening as his fingers trail over the wide flat leaf of some kind of palm plant. It’s silent for a minute and Bucky knows better than to break it quite yet. Tony eventually looks up and smiles regretfully, “Sorry, the last thing you probably want to hear about is my ex,” he jokes before leading Bucky out onto a back porch that overlooks the lake. There’s a walkway down to the shore and Adirondack chairs both here and down on the dock and with the trees close by, it’s completely enclosed and private.

“I don’t mind,” he tells Tony softly, edging up beside him as they look out at the lake. His shoulder bumps Tony’s and they share a soft smile. “Honestly, she was your friend then and she still is, I’m glad she’s in your life.” Tony’s brows rise at that, clearly he’s surprised by the answer. “Let me guess, other people haven’t been as understanding?” he asks, turning around to lean his elbows on the railing, catching the way Tony’s gaze flickers to his arms even as he huffs out a soft laugh.

He flexes purposefully and winks when Tony looks up sharply, blushing at having been caught. “I uh, yea, my ex, he didn’t like it. He was...jealous.”

The way Tony says that word is so heavily loaded with meaning that Bucky can _feel_ every unspoken word hanging between them. Bucky nods slowly, “Sounds like he was a dick,” he comments dryly, pushing upright and waving a hand towards the interior of the house, “I spy a second level,” he jokes, “what’s up there?”

Tony grins and shakes his head, leading the way back inside. “That’s where I keep all the bodies of my enemies,” he jokes over his shoulder.

“Cool, I usually just dissolve mine in acid.”

Bucky grins when Tony lets out a cackle that is _completely_ unlike any laugh Bucky’s ever heard him make before, and if the blush on his cheeks as they step onto the upper landing is any indicator, it’s one Tony is embarrassed by. Instead of teasing him, Bucky chooses to follow along without a word as Tony leads him down the hall and into a large master suite. It’s decorated in taupe, cream, navy blue and grey and is, well, _boring_ if Bucky’s opinion counts for anything.

The bed is big and there’s a loveseat under one window with a bookshelf beside it and Bucky’s more certain than ever that this room was designed by Pepper with her interests in mind because he doesn’t see _anything_ of Tony in this room. “It’s nice,” he says politely, grinning sheepishly when Tony gives him a knowing look.

“It’s all Pepper’s design,” Tony confirms, “I haven’t been out here in like a year, so at some point I’ll have to hire someone to redo it I suppose,” he says with a look of distaste. Shrugging, he looks around and then back to Bucky, “Would this work for what you have in mind?” he asks, “there’s places to tie someone down on the bed and we can install whatever you want.”

Bucky looks around again and tries not to frown because while the bedroom isn’t a _bad_ place for them to have scenes, he also can sense that Tony’s stiff and wary—apparently still worried that Bucky will just fuck him without warning or something equally horrible. Or godforbid, _worse_. “Show me the rest of the upstairs,” he murmurs, “I need to see it all before I decide,” he tells Tony with a smile.

Tony nods and leads him back down the hall, past a closed door that he waves at, “That was Pep’s office, wouldn’t be any good,” he says before pushing open the door at the other end of the hall. The room is empty and has bland cream walls and hardwood floors and when Bucky looks up he’s pleased to see exposed beams that look more than strong enough to handle what he has in mind.

He nods, pleased, and glances back over at Tony, “This is much better.”

Tony lifts a brow and looks around the empty room, “ _Right_ ,” he agrees dryly, “an empty room is better.”

Bucky grins and sidles over, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist so they’re pressed together, Bucky’s much larger frame encompassing Tony’s easily. He can feel the shiver that runs over Tony’s body so he tilts his head and lets his lips just barely brush against the exposed skin at the edge of Tony’s shirt. “So, here’s what I’m thinking,” he murmurs, voice low and warm with promise.

He lifts a hand from Tony’s waist and points at the beams, “We’ll install some hooks up there for some suspension bondage. It’ll let me tie you up and then hang you in the air however I want, like the work of art you are,” he murmurs, smirking when Tony shivers and makes a faint sound.

He points again, this time to the corner of the room, “We’ll install a toy pegboard and storage center so everything will be in its place when it’s not being used.” He drops a kiss to Tony’s neck and continues as the other man gasps softly, “I’d also like to get a nice comfortable table for you to lay on, something padded, but with restraints and tie off points.”

“W-what for?” Tony asks breathily, seemingly unconsciously pushing his body back into Bucky’s.

“Mmm, massages, edging, sensation play maybe,” he admits, thinking of the essential oils he’d bought recently.

“Like wax?” Tony whispers, sounding curious and vaguely aroused.

Bucky hums and presses his lips to Tony’s neck, “You interested in that baby?” he prods, “I could get a red candle and drip wax all over your pretty skin,” he murmurs against Tony’s neck. Tony shudders and sighs, head tilting to the side to give Bucky better access and he can’t help the smirk that follows. Tony trusting him like this is heady and powerful, but he’s careful not to let himself sink too deeply into the headspace—he needs to stay alert to Tony’s moods right now. The last thing he wants to do is make Tony feel unsafe in his own home or pressured to do something he doesn’t want.

Tony nods though, “I’ve never tried it,” he admits, “but I’ve always been curious. Does it hurt?” he asks, sighing as Bucky slides his hand up into Tony’s hair and gently massages his scalp.

“Nah, not like you’re thinking. You’ve touched hot wax before, right?” he asks, smiling when Tony hums and nods, eyes closed as Bucky massages his scalp and speaks softly against his neck. “With wax play you hold the candle up higher so by the time the wax reaches your skin it’s not as hot. Hold it a little closer and it’s hotter,” he explains.

Tony nods loosely, smiling, “I think I’d like that,” he murmurs, voice quiet and sweet. Bucky nips gently at his neck and grins when he gasps and opens his eyes, craning to give Bucky a faux offended look. _“Rude,”_ he accuses playfully, eyes dark and teasing and _god_ Bucky wants to kiss him so badly in that moment that it feels like his body is _pulsing_ with the need to close the gap between them and finally, _finally_ taste that sweet mouth.

Tony’s pupils blow wide and his lips part on a soft exhale of breath that Bucky can almost _taste_ and a whine of want climbs up his throat, ruthlessly strangled like a babe in its bed as he forces himself to be still and cautious. His hand at Tony’s hip slips under the hem of his shirt, the skin to skin contact making them both gasp softly. “Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely, “baby, Tony, can I kiss you?”

Tony makes a soft sound, eyes wide, and then nods.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses harshly, hand in Tony’s hair tightening till the other man moans and arches with it so his head is nearly back on Bucky’s shoulder. “Look how gorgeous you are doll,” Bucky whispers reverently before he bends over Tony and kisses him, kisses him like he’s a dying man and this is the last one he’ll ever get, slow and sweet and _demanding_. Tony moans and winds a hand back to cling at Bucky’s neck, pulling him even closer.

Bucky groans and lets his hand slide beneath Tony’s shirt, palm splaying on his belly as he nips at Tony’s bottom lip, reveling in the moan it elicits. He pushes Tony’s shirt up higher, feeling his shudder at the touch and nips harder at his lip, sucking on it immediately to soothe the burn, letting his stubble drag across Tony’s lips, a heated reminder of how he’d done the same to Tony’s hole when he rimmed him.

He’s never been one for using a lot of tongue when he kisses, never really found it arousing, but when he flicks his tongue against the upper curve of Tony’s top lip, the man gasps and shudders, arching into Bucky’s mouth and touch and it sends a bolt of heat through him.

A whine sounds low in Tony’s throat, sending a feral urge through Bucky to bite down on the taut golden skin. He abandons Tony’s mouth and nips at his jaw, a hungry sound rumbling from his chest as Tony clings to him, moaning and gasping, lips crimson and wet from Bucky’s mouth. “So fuckin sweet baby, goddamn,” he whispers, lips brushing against Tony’s stubble, skin tingling hotly.

He nips and licks at the skin beneath Tony’s jaw, groaning at the sounds Tony makes, mouth watering with the urge to bite down harder and mark him, _claim_ him. He nuzzles at Tony’s throat instead, softening his kisses to something a little sweeter, something that makes Tony melt in his arms with soft breathy sighs.

He works his way back up to Tony’s mouth, kissing him softly, till even _he_ is breathless, chest heaving as Tony lays limply against him, mouth swollen and red, shining wetly from Bucky’s drugging kisses. The hand on Tony’s chest slides back down slowly, resting at Tony’s hip, thumb petting gently at the soft skin of his stomach while he kisses Tony again, lighter this time, little sips instead of long drinks at the well of sweetness.

Tony shivers in his arms and Bucky hums softly, fingers releasing the tight grip he’d kept on Tony’s hair, gently massaging at his scalp as his kisses slow and lighten. He could spend an eternity kissing Tony and never get tired of it; never stop thrilling at all his sweet sounds or aching at the way he’s so responsive and _good_.

Eventually he stops kissing Tony entirely so he can manhandle Tony into turning around to face him fully, smiling softly when the other man melts into his arms and tilts his face up, searching out more kisses. His eyes are heavily lidded with want, body blissed out and soft in Bucky’s arms.

Bucky wraps an arm around his shoulders, hand snaking back up into his hair, his grip gentler this time as he kisses Tony again, softly, sweetly. His other hand slips down to the small of his back, pressing Tony close, keeping him steady as he sways gently and moans Bucky’s name.

Bucky is half hard in his jeans, and if the line of heat against his hip is any indication, Tony is enjoying this just as much as he is. It’s a heady thought—that they both have gotten hard from this, making out like horny teenagers. Bucky kisses Tony again, groaning at the sweet way Tony goes soft and pliant under him, yielding and sighing.

Bucky breaks away and presses his forehead to Tony’s, gasping softly, heart racing in his chest. “Fuck doll, the way you _sound_ ,” he groans, shaking his head slowly. “It’s enough to kill a man,” he says with a soft laugh. He swallows hard, emotion making his throat thick, “ _God_ , what you do to me baby,” he whispers hoarsely, opening his eyes to find Tony looking back at him, eyes dark and heated and a little bit glazed over.

“You okay baby? You look soft and sweet,” he murmurs, wondering if Tony is skimming subspace just from some kissing and manhandling. The idea of that is deeply arousing and he makes a mental note to see if he can get Tony down in the future by kissing him and manhandling him.

He knows Tony loves his muscles and how easily Bucky is able to move him, and Bucky can’t really deny that he enjoys it too. He loves the way Tony is smaller than him, something sweet and precious to be adored and cared for.

Tony nods loosely and gives Bucky a dazed smile, “A little fuzzy,” he admits, “but I’m good sir.” He leans in and smiles when Bucky doesn’t even have to shift to take on the near dead weight of his body.

Tony’s hands are fisted in the back of his shirt but he feels it when one loosens and slides between them and then up up up to touch his cheek, the look on Tony’s face unbearably tender and wanting. Bucky closes his eyes and lets his head lean into the touch a little more, lips quivering at the gentle gesture.

Neither of them says anything.

He can’t deny how he feels with Tony touching him like this—safe and wanted. He leans into the touch and exhales unsteadily, breathing in slowly. His lungs fill with the scent of cedar and pine, but more strongly than that is the warm clean scent of Tony’s skin. It makes him greedy for more and he takes a deeper breath, memorizing it so that no matter what, he never forgets.

Even if Hydra somehow got him again and wiped him, he’s certain that he’d never forget Tony. He’s imprinted now in Bucky’s mind, his heart and soul, on his very senses and perception of the world.

No, he’ll never forget Tony.

Eventually Tony sighs softly and then laughs quietly and Bucky opens his eyes to find the other man smiling at him. “We uh, should decide what else we might need for the room so I can order it,” Tony murmurs, stepping back just an inch or two, but the cool air that fills the space between them is a shock to Bucky’s system and he nods jerkily, mind working to catch up.

“I can order it,” he offers, but Tony shakes his head and grins, “Nah, if I order it it’ll be here tonight and this way we don’t have to wait on those fuckers over at Amazon.” Tony’s face screws up, “Fuck Bezos,” he mutters, “J-man make a note to do another wave of hiring from the big three,” he calls out before looking back to Bucky with a grin.

Bucky laughs, nodding in agreement. “Yea okay.”

“Hey J, talk to big sis and go ahead and order everything on my wishlist, plus a top of the line massage table with tie downs, plastic sheeting, red candles for wax play, hooks, nails, you know what I need,” Tony calls out, grinning when Bucky lifts a brow. He casts a glance around the room, “Get enough paint to cover the walls too, I’m thinking gold on the pegboard wall and hot rod red for the others?” he says almost teasingly, giving Bucky a questioning look.

“It’s your room doll, but I think you know my opinion on those colors,” he murmurs, smirking knowingly.

Tony blushes and nods, “You heard the man J.”

“Of course sir, right away.”

“If you think of anything else we need, just text me and I’ll have J order it,” Tony tells him, “I can get a painting crew out here tomorrow,” he says and Bucky shakes his head, cutting him off— “Let’s do it ourselves,” he says, “just you and me.”

Tony stares at him curiously for a moment before shrugging, “Sure. But I’m ordering pizza and having a drone deliver it,” he warns, eliciting a laugh from Bucky that feels more lighthearted than any has in a long time.

He nods and leans in for a quick kiss, lingering for just a moment before pulling back and smiling softly at Tony.

“Whatever you want baby,” he promises, knowing already that if Tony asked it of him, he’d give him the world.

* * *

He asks Tony if he can kiss him again before he gets out of the car and grins when Tony blushes and smiles bashfully. He kisses him soft and sweet and tender, like he’s never going to see him again even though he knows he is. He wants this to be memorable, to stick with Tony long after they aren’t together anymore.

Because if there’s one thing he’s known since this started it’s that Tony Stark is too good for him and that someday he’ll find a dom who can shower him in presents and take him on fancy trips and hell, get baked goods from Paris instead of some dumpy kitchen in Brooklyn.

When he pulls away Tony’s eyes are closed and he’s got the faintest bit of a smile at the corners of his lips. He’s soft and beautiful and Bucky can’t help leaning in again to kiss the lines beside his eye and then the corner of his mouth and the tip of his nose before he murmurs his goodbye and gets out of the car.

Tony waits till he’s inside to drive away, and Bucky stands there, watching the silver car disappear into the sunset.

* * *

Bucky’s dressed in the rattiest pair of jeans he owns that are more holes than fabric at this point, stained with grease and paint, and the T-shirt he’s got on isn’t in much better condition. It’s worn and threadbare and with his worn flannel shirt and scuffed combat boots, he looks like—

“A fucking hipster,” he sighs, shaking his head, smirking softly at his own image before he grabs his keys, wallet, and a fresh batch of rugalech he’d made yesterday. He’d met up with George to learn how to play a video game and brought some as a token of friendship.

He smiles at the memory of George’s excited grin and how much fun they’d had while George had taught him how to play Legend of Zelda. Once he’d figured it out it had been easy to lose himself in an afternoon of friendship, pizza and beers. It was almost nothing like what his youth with Steve had been like, but it still felt familiar—the feeling of friendship and laughter.

Waving, he grins and opens the door to the Audi, deeply pleased to see Tony despite the early hour. “Hey baby,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Tony’s cheek softly. He can tell when Tony blushes, the feel of that extra heat under his skin against his lips making him ache for a _real_ kiss.

“Hey,” Tony murmurs back, eyes tired looking and sad despite the smile on his lips.

“You ok darlin?” Bucky asks quietly, fingers coming up to brush Tony’s cheek. “Sleep ok?” he asks, concern filling him as he studies Tony closer and sees the lines around his eyes from lack of sleep.

Toby shrugs and looks away, clearly uncomfortable, “I had nightmares last night, no big deal, it happens,” he says lightly, turning back to smile at Bucky like nothing is wrong, but Bucky’s not _that_ gullible thank you very much.

“I’m sorry baby that sucks,” he murmurs, smiling encouragingly whenever Tony looks surprised, “if there’s anything I’ve learned in all my years, it’s that our brains don’t often do the things we want them to,” he says softly, smiling wryly, “speaking as someone who has a lot of blank spots in his memories and a whole lot of spots that I’d rather forget, sometimes you just gotta say this shit sucks and let someone hug you.”

He shifts in his seat and smiles at Tony, “How bout it baby?” he says, opening his arms in offering.

Tony hesitates for all of three seconds before he’s leaning over and hugging Bucky tightly, tucking his face in against Bucky’s neck with a soft sound that makes Bucky hold him a little tighter. “There you go baby, I got you,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to Tony’s hair.

Tony makes a soft sound and nods, grip tightening on Bucky’s flannel. “Thank you,” he whispers, voice thick and quiet, like he’s choking back emotion and well, Bucky can’t say Tony’s the only one in this car that needed this hug.

He always feels better when he’s got Tony in his arms.

Eventually though, because it’s New York City, someone starts honking at them for idling at the curb and Tony has to pull away to flip them off and start driving, and it’s enough to have them both laughing, easing some of the heavy emotion.

Bucky offers Tony more rugelach and in exchange Tony gives him coffee that’s somehow perfectly blended with sugar and cream, just the way he likes it and Bucky can’t help but beam and lean over to kiss Tony’s cheek again. “Thank you doll,” he murmurs, smirking when Tony blushes at the pet name.

“So uh, what did you get up to yesterday?” Tony asks politely and Bucky grins as he sips his coffee; it’s honestly adorable how Tony doesn’t know how to just exist in silence with another person. He’ll have to work on that, maybe work on getting Tony more comfortable with them spending time together outside of scenes.

“I played video games with my new friend George,” he says proudly, “have you ever played Legend of Zelda?” he asks curiously.

Tony laughs brightly, “Oh my god, I haven’t played in so long,” he says, grinning over at Bucky, “It’s been years since I just sat and played games all day.”

“You should come next time,” Bucky offers without thinking. Tony shoots him an incredulous look and Bucky shrugs, “What? Seriously. George is a nice guy, if a little shy, and he’s someone that respects people’s privacy,” he assures Tony. “He’s not the type to sell you out to the gossip rags.”

Tony makes a soft thoughtful noise and smiles blandly, “Maybe,” he agrees, “though most people don’t really want to be friends with me when they get to know me,” he says lightly, like that _isn’t_ the saddest damn thing Bucky’s ever heard.

He frowns at that, “ _I_ know you and I still wanna be your friend,” he says, smiling softly when Tony looks at him in shock. “Eyes on the road doll,” he teases, nodding toward the road and grinning when Tony hurriedly looks away. It’s clear that it isn’t something that Bucky should push too hard right now, so he reaches out and squeezes Tony’s thigh gently, “But no pressure darlin, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna, _ever_. Not with me.”

Tony nods thoughtfully, watching him from the corner of his eye and Bucky risks leaving his hand on Tony’s thigh as they fall into silence. He feels it when Tony relaxes under his hand and smiles faintly, sipping his coffee. “Hey JARVIS, can you play some music for me?” he asks politely.

“Of course Bucky, what would you like to hear?”

Glancing over at Tony, he smiles softly, “Can you play my _Feeling Soft_ playlist?” he asks, smiling when just a few moments later “Sweet Thing” by Rafferty starts playing.

Tony gives him a _look_ and grins, eyes sparkling and playful. “Hipster,” he accuses, “I’ve never even _heard_ of this song.”

Bucky grins and pats Tony’s thighs, “That's just fine sweet thing, I’ll teach you all about good music.”

Tony gasps dramatically, “How very _dare_! I am an _expert_ on good music! J, play Back in Black.”

Bucky laughs as the familiar strains of AC/DC’s iconic song starts playing, filling the car with pounding bass that shakes the seats. Tony grins at him, pure joy radiating from his eyes and Bucky is helpless to do anything but grin back.

 _Mission accomplished_ he thinks; Tony is happy.

* * *

“Ok, so maybe we should have gotten someone to set all this up,” Tony says, looking around at all the boxes piled in the hallway outside the soon to be playroom.

Bucky grins and shakes his head, “One thing at a time darlin. Let’s get the windows and baseboards taped up and the paint ready and then we can get started. We’ve got all day,” he reminds Tony, laughing at the look of resignation on his face.

It’s only a little past nine in the morning when they finish taping and pouring out the paint, each of them armed with long handled rollers and mugs of coffee. Bucky dips his roller into the gold paint and approaches the wall, grinning at Tony over his shoulder, “C’mon darlin, first one done gets to choose our next scene.”

Tony’s brows rise and he grins, “You’re on,” he challenges before turning back and wetting his roller. After that it’s a blur of painting and coffee and teasing until finally Bucky calls them to a break because it’s lunchtime dammit and he was promised pizza.

“This doesn’t mean you win,” Tony tells him as he hands him a whole box of pizza just for him, “Jarvis is using the air filtration system to force dry the paint so we can get in another coat before we start building anything and I’m _going_ to win,” he promises.

Bucky just grins and takes a hearty bite of his pizza, groaning at the taste of hot cheese and sauce, “Course you will darlin, you go on and kick my ass,” he says around a mouthful of pizza. Tony’s eyes narrow at a Bucky’s conciliatory tone, but he just sips his beer and takes another bite of pizza instead of responding.

In the end it _is_ Tony who wins their little race, and he celebrates by flicking Bucky with his paintbrush, smearing a stripe of red across Bucky’s chest with a playful grin.

“Oh it’s like that, huh?” he murmurs hotly, something feral rising up in Bucky at the playful look in Tony’s eyes. He smears paint onto Tony’s cheek and laughs softly at his faux offended look, dancing back out of reach when Tony lunges forward.

“Dammit, come _here,”_ Tony says around a laugh, lunging forward again. He manages to smear paint on Bucky’s flesh forearm and then across his jeans when Bucky spins away, laughing and smiling as Bucky turns and chases him around the room, flicking paint on him in turn.

Bucky manages to snag Tony’s arm and spins him around so that Tony’s back is against Bucky’s chest—a mimicry of just days ago when he’d kissed him senseless. He can feel Tony’s gasp, and the way the man arches back into him has liquid heat spreading through his veins but then Tony does something with his feet that sends them sprawling to the ground, covered in paint and laughing.

Tony has somehow landed fully atop Bucky, and Bucky can’t help the way his hands fall naturally onto the delicious swells of Tony’s ass. (Really...it’s entirely unavoidable!)

He squeezes and the laughter in Tony’s throat dies, fading into a moan that has the blood surging through Bucky’s veins turning to white hot lava. Tony’s eyes darken dramatically and Bucky grins sharply, “So you won baby, what’s your prize gonna be?” he asks in a low, heated voice.

He can _hear_ it when Tony gulps, breaths coming unevenly as he nods and stares down at Bucky. “Wax play,” he whispers, “I want to try that,” he admits, and Bucky nods eagerly, squeezing at his ass again, just to hear the tiny choked off sound of pleasure it elicits.

 _Fuck_ he’s a goner for this man and all the beautiful sounds he makes.

“Sounds good darlin,” he agrees, “we should test your pain tolerance tonight to see what you can handle before we move forward. Don’t want you to have to wax all your body hair off if you don’t have to,” he tells Tony with an apologetic smile.

Tony nods and waves a hand toward the boxes in the hallway, “There’s a bunch of candles out there,” he murmurs, “we can test it out later,” he says, gaze flickering to Bucky’s mouth, eyes hungry and wanting.

Bucky smirks, “Later, huh doll? What do you want to do right now then?” he asks, playfully innocent, eyes anything but. Tony blushes but tightens his grip on Bucky’s shirt, gaze determined and hot.

“I want you to kiss me like you did before,” Tony whispers, leaning in slowly, gaze focused and intent. _“Please_ sir,” he breathes out, lips just barely hovering above Bucky’s so he can feel the heat of them, taunting, enticing.

“Anything for you doll,” Bucky whispers back before lacing his metal fingers through Tony’s hair and tugging him close, groaning at Tony’s moan of pleasure. In turn Tony’s hands leave his shoulders and dive into his messy and paint splattered hair, tugging just as hard in return.

Bucky groans and arches at the erotic sensation, cock throbbing in his jeans where it’s already starting to plump up. _Damn serum_ he thinks, moaning when Tony’s delicious ass grinds down into him. His free hand dives under the waistband of Tony’s pants and grabs his ass, squeezing tightly on those firm muscles.

“God baby, I can’t wait to get my mouth on your pretty hole again,” he groans between kisses, “wanna mark you up some more.” He squeezes Tony’s ass and groans when Tony grinds down into him, hot breathless moans spilling from his lips alongside Bucky’s name.

Bucky attacks Tony’s throat, nipping and sucking, eager to leave his mark but when Tony whines out “No marks, sir, _please_ ,” he gentles and nods, pressing soft kisses to the spots, apologizing softly. He nips at Tony’s jaw and works his way down, huffing in frustration that he doesn’t have better access to Tony’s neck and chest like he wants.

Cupping Tony’s head protectively, he rolls them over and presses Tony down into the sheet covering the floor, devouring his mouth with a fervor that has them both moaning and arching into each other. He shoves a hand beneath Tony’s shirt and pushes the worn fabric up so his taut belly is exposed to the air while he nips at Tony’s collarbone, sucking lightly for a moment before he moves on.

Tony whines when Bucky’s lips leave his skin, lifting his head slightly to pout prettily. Bucky laughs and shakes his head, “S’alright baby, just relax,” he encourages before shifting and leaning down to kiss at the very edge of Tony’s hip bone. It earns him a small gasp and Bucky repeats it, opening his mouth a little more to lick and suck at the spot.

“Can I leave a mark here?” he asks softly, lifting his gaze to find Tony’s. The other man nods eagerly and moans, hips lifting into the air invitingly. Bucky smiles, toothy and predatory before bending back down and biting, licking at it as Tony moans loudly and gasps.

“Mmm baby, you sound so _sweet_ ,” he murmurs, “always so _good_ for me. If anyone heard you they’d be damn jealous.”

Tony gasps and arches, “Sir!”

“Yea that’s right doll, lemme hear you,” he encourages, moving up to nip at Tony’s belly button. He laughs softly when Tony flinches and grabs at his head, laughing weakly as he pushes Bucky away.

“Not sexy,” he scolds, though he’s grinning and breathless and so goddamn beautiful that Bucky has to lunge up to kiss him. It’s sloppy and they’re laughing, but Tony clings to him and Bucky is loath to let go, so he sinks into it, groaning when Tony gets his hands on Bucky’s hair and ass.

Tony grips his hair tightly and Bucky groans, hips grinding down into Tony’s, gasping wetly as their lips slide against each other. His lips feel bruised and tingly from how their beards rub, burning and aching and it’s so good he can’t stop. He’s breathless and burning up with need, groaning when he feels that Tony’s nearly as hard as he is, and the sounds, _god,_ the _sounds_ Tony makes…

His cock throbs in his jeans and he inhales shudderingly, pulling back to stare down at Tony as he moans and gasps for breath, eyes closed in ecstasy. His lips are as red as a whore’s after a busy night, slick and shining and Bucky groans, remembering how gorgeous they’d looked wrapped around his cock.

Shuddering, he leans in and presses his forehead to Tony’s, “Fuck doll, your _mouth,”_ he whispers rawly, fingers tracing Tony’s mouth. “You look like a well used whore,” he groans, heat rippling through him alongside surprise when Tony’s eyes open and he tilts his head, lips parting around Bucky’s fingers.

“ _Fuck,”_ he grits out, cock pulsing and leaking in his jeans as Tony sucks on his finger. “You ain’t helpin me calm down any baby,” he says with a rough laugh, but still, he doesn’t pull his fingers out of Tony’s mouth either, just watches as Tony sucks on them and stares at him.

At some point he realizes that he needs to stop this before it escalates or Tony goes down, so he takes his fingers away and replaces them with his mouth, kissing Tony slow and sweet. He captures Tony’s hands with his and pins them gently beside his head while he kisses the other man deeply.

He feels it when Tony goes pliant and soft beneath him and releases one hand to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling back to let them both breath. They’re both breathing breathless and ragged, but Bucky’s settles far more quickly than Tony’s does. He kisses the corner of Tony’s mouth and nudges his nose with his own, smiling when Tony’s eyes finally open.

He looks dreamy and dizzy and _gorgeous_ and it takes everything in him not to spill his guts all over the floor in an embarrassing display of emotion. “How you doin baby?” he says instead, petting Tony’s hair back from his brow, smiling softly when Tony leans into the touch.

His poor baby, so affection starved, just like Bucky.

“Good,” Tony whispers, smiling dreamily, “I’m good.”

Bucky laughs softly and bends down to kiss his cheek, “Yea you are darlin, you’re my good boy.” Tony makes a soft noise and if Bucky’s not mistaken, blushes just before he turns his face and hides it against Bucky’s throat.

Bucky cups his head and turns his chin so he can press kisses to Tony’s hair, “You like being my good boy, huh?” he prods gently, smiling when Tony nods and winds his arms around Bucky’s broad waist to cling at his back. “That’s good baby, cuz I love how good you are for me,” he murmurs, kissing Tony’s head again.

Eventually he shifts them so he’s the one laying on the ground and Tony is laying half atop him like before, his hand rubbing soothingly over Tony’s back while they both calm down. Tony plucks at the fabric of his T-shirt, and though the angle isn’t good enough for Bucky to see his face, he _knows_ Tony’s thinking hard about _something._

Tony breaks the silence a few minutes later, voice soft and tentative as he asks Bucky “Have you ever done this before?”

“What, had a sub?” Bucky replies, fingers furrowing through Tony’s hair.

“Yea but one you’re...I-I don’t know...”

Tony’s voice trails off like he’s afraid to say the word, so Bucky says it for him. He’s always been reckless, or brave, depending on which of his sisters you asked. “Serious with?” he offers.

“Is that what we are? Serious?”

Bucky stares at Tony for a moment before he rolls onto his side and takes Tony with him so they’re lying face to face. He takes Tony’s hand in his and smiles softly, “Darlin, I haven’t had a connection like this with a sub in seventy some years. I’m serious as a heart attack. We make each other feel better right?”

Tony nods, eyes wide and curious, maybe hopeful.

“And you want to keep doing this with me?”

Tony nods again.

“Then I don’t see why it can’t be serious. I’m _seriously_ happy being your dom baby, what about you?”

Tony smiles shyly, “Yea, I'm happy too,” he admits softly, fingers tightening around Bucky’s. Joy feels like it’s trying to punch its way out of Bucky’s rib cage and his breathing stutters because, goddamnit, it takes his breath away when Tony smiles like that.

Bucky kisses Tony’s knuckles with trembling lips, “Then that’s all there is to it. Just you and me, doin what makes us happy,” he says in a wavering, emotional voice.

Tony stares at him for a long moment before grinning and leaning in to kiss Bucky, still smiling as he does. It’s perhaps a little awkward with them both smiling, but it’s got to be the best kiss Bucky’s _ever_ had. Eventually though his back and shoulder protest laying on the floor so he helps Tony up and waves a hand towards the boxes, “C’mon darlin we can’t laze about all day, still got work to do.”

Tony whines and faux pouts, yelping when Bucky smacks his ass and grins widely. “Let’s go baby,” he murmurs, voice low and hot. Tony nods and scurries out the door, cheeks blazing red. Bucky makes a note of his reaction to the slap on his ass—Tony’s form had indicated he was at the very least interested in spanking, but he thinks it bears a longer conversation about _how_ he might want it.

Context, Bucky knows, is everything.

They spend a few more hours constructing the peg board and table and various other tools and toys until finally, the room is fully decorated. Bucky fishes out matches for one of the candles and waves Tony over after it’s been burning for a minute.

He holds the candle aloft and lets the wax drip onto his own flesh forearm, jolting at the heat and then relaxing as it eases almost immediately. “It’s not too bad,” he tells Tony, “but let’s see what you think of it,” he murmurs, holding out his free hand to Tony.

Tony offers it with only a little apprehension in his eyes and Bucky smiles encouragingly at him. “If you don’t like it we’ll do something else next week, whatever you want,” he promises. He turns Tony’s arm over so that the soft inside is exposed—he wants to test the wax on the most sensitive part of Tony’s skin so he has a baseline for his pain thresholds.

He holds the candle aloft and lets three droplets fall, one after the other in a neat precise line. Tony jolts and hisses, surprise on his face that quickly yields into one of acceptance and pleasure. Bucky smiles and lifts a brow, “How was that?” he asks curiously.

Tony grins and shifts in place, like maybe his cock is reacting and _god_ Bucky has to bite back a feral sound of delight and repress the urge to press him to the wall and shove a thigh between his legs to find out. “It’s _good_ ,” he admits, “I really want to do it now,” he says with a soft laugh.

“That makes two of us,” Bucky says lowly, grinning and lifting a brow when Tony meets his gaze. He blows out the candle and sets it aside, his gaze turning to the wax that’s dried on Tony’s skin and then slowly reaches into his pocket to pull out his knife. “Do you trust me?” he asks quietly, flipping the blade open and showing it to Tony. “I won’t cut you, I promise,” he assures Tony, “I won’t hurt you. _Ever.”_

He can hear it when Tony gulps and watches his pupils blow wide, so he holds perfectly still while Tony’s gaze flicks to the knife and then back to his face. After a long moment Tony makes a soft sound and nods, granting Bucky permission with wide doe eyes. Bucky moves slowly, carefully, scraping the wax off Tony’s skin with the blade before swiping it clean with his thumb and snapping it shut.

He lifts Tony’s arm and kisses the spot he’d dripped wax onto, gaze steady on Tony’s. “Good as new,” he murmurs, smiling as he lowers Tony’s arm to his side again. Tony gulps and nods, cheeks flushed once more and pupils dilated.

Knives have never really been part of play for Bucky—they never interested him before, and after Hydra the negative associations left him with little desire to play with them. But this, _this_ reaction from Tony and his own pulse pounding desire has him intrigued.

It’s another thing to think about for the future, something he hadn’t considered before Tony.

He’s thought maybe he could label his life as BH (Before Hydra) and AH (After Hydra), but now he needs to add BT (Before Tony) and AT (After Tony), because so much about his life has changed in just a few short weeks since he’d connected with Tony.

They clean up the paint splattered tarps and break down the boxes before heading back downstairs for the last of the pizza that’s now cold and a few bottles of water. Their conversation is quiet and subdued but the silences they occasionally fall into aren’t at all uncomfortable.

When they walk back out to the car after Tony’s locked up, Bucky stops him with a hand at his elbow, a warm little smile on his lips as he asks, “Would you mind too awful much if I drove? It’s such a gorgeous car and I’d love to get my hands on her,” he admits, though it’s only partially the reason he wants to drive.

Tony looks surprised for a second and then grins and nods, handing over the keys easily. “Just don’t get stopped by the police,” he advises, “she can do 200 easy, so don’t get caught.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head at the audacity of this man, grinning as he walks around the car and takes the seat Tony’s normally in. He fiddles with the seat and mirrors for a moment before turning on the seat heater, groaning as the heat sinks into his sore and tired back.

It doesn’t escape his attention that Tony does too, and when he asks JARVIS to play his soft playlist once more, Tony doesn’t encourage the AI to change it. They talk sporadically but Bucky can tell something weighs heavily on Tony’s mind because he’s wearing a thousand yard stare Bucky’s seen before on the faces of the men he served with.

Tony’s fingers tap restlessly against the reactor housing—Bucky can hear it humming away softly, and if he listens closely enough he can hear Tony’s heart beating; arrhythmic and slow, damaged, but not broken.

“You’re awfully far away darlin,” he murmurs, glancing over at Tony as he drives.

Tony hums and looks over at him briefly, eyes shadowed and exhausted before they slip away again. Bucky hesitates for a moment and then reaches out to capture those relentlessly tapping fingers with his own. He lifts Tony’s hand and presses kisses to the palm and then each finger, glancing over at Tony to find he’s blushing sweetly.

“You wanna tell me about it?” he offers, lacing their fingers together and turning Tony’s hand so he can kiss the knuckles. “You don’t have to, but I want to hear it if you want to tell it,” he murmurs, tucking their joined hands down against his thigh. His thumb strokes along the side of Tony’s hand slowly, gently, as he waits in silence to see what Tony will do.

He hears Tony shift, fabric against leather, and beneath that is the unsteady jump in his pulse, his breathing just on the edge of ragged. Still, he doesn’t say anything because he’s not going to _force_ Tony to tell him something he’s not ready to.

“I’ve had nightmares the past few days,” Tony admits. “The standard stuff really; the humvee attack, the cave, Yinsen, Obadiah.” Bucky sees him shrug in his periphery and squeezes his hand gently in reassurance.

The names Tony says are familiar to him, though he can’t place a face with Yinsen. Obadiah though...that one he _is_ familiar with and he’s _very_ glad the man is already dead because if he wasn’t Bucky would be very tempted to hunt him down and make him _bleed_.

“I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, “you gettin _any_ sleep?” he asks softly.

Tony shrugs and smirks, and it’s the emptiest smile Bucky has ever seen before. “I’ve been running on caffeine and naps for years now, it barely makes a difference if I’m not getting those extra couple of hours.”

And Bucky _really_ wants to argue because _clearly_ it does make a difference, but he bites that back, knowing that if he said something negative right now, Tony would misconstrue it as Bucky blaming him for his sleeplessness. “Hmm,” he hums, “I’m really sorry baby, I wish I could make it better for you,” he says instead.

“You do.”

When Bucky looks over at him in surprise, Tony is peering fixedly out the window, a blush high on his cheeks and Bucky knows better than to tease about something like this. “Yea?” he ventures softly.

Tony nods, “They haven’t been as bad lately. The...the scenes with you, they’ve helped some of the side effects of withdrawal.” He shrugs and smiles hopelessly, looking over at Bucky, “Problem is, my brain is still a fucking mess even with it getting better. I see all the people I couldn’t save—I see Sokovia falling out of the sky and I’m not fast enough, not _good_ enough to stop it. I see the world covered in ashes and blood, conquered by a demon from space, my friends broken and dead at his feet—”

Tony shudders and covers his face with one hand, breathing unsteadily, “It’s coming and I can’t stop it,” he whispers hoarsely and a shiver of foreboding slithers down Bucky’s spine. He glances down the road and then guides the car over to the side of the small back road, shifting it into park before he reaches down and shoves his seat back.

Turning to Tony he tugs on their joined hands and wiggles his fingers in appeal with the other. “C'mere baby,” he murmurs, “please?” he adds, allowing some of the emotion that’s currently wrapped around his heart like a vise to seep into his voice.

Tony stares at him with wide wet eyes, visibly trembling before he unlatches his seatbelt and slithers across the center console and into Bucky’s lap. Bucky’s arms go around Tony instantly, pulling him close as he shudders and tucks his face into Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky rubs Tony’s back, nose pressed into his hair, throat thick as he speaks. “You’re safe baby, I promise. I’m gonna protect you,” he whispers, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Tony makes a soft pained sound and shivers, “You haven’t seen what I have,” he whispers, the horror in his voice thick and black, “he’s _coming_ ,” Tony insists, “and he can’t be stopped.”

Bucky rubs his back and shakes his head minutely, “Baby, it doesn’t matter who he is, I won’t ever let him hurt you. We’ll stop him, I promise. You don’t gotta be in this fight alone.”

Tony nods against his shoulder and Bucky could swear he feels wetness on his shirt but he doesn’t say anything, just holds Tony tighter and hums along with the music as he rubs Tony’s back. He eventually shifts and massages Tony’s neck and then up into his scalp, smiling as he feels Tony go lax.

He keeps it up till he’s certain that Tony’s half asleep and then carefully guides him back into his own seat, smiling softly at Tony’s sleepy protests. “I know baby, I wanna keep cuddling you, but we gotta get back to the city,” he reminds Tony, smirking faintly when Tony pouts sleepily.

Brushing his knuckles against Tony’s cheek he smiles and leans in to kiss him, soft and sweet. “Close your eyes baby, I’ll protect you,” he whispers, lips brushing warmly against Tony’s temple. Tony makes a soft sound and nods, eyes already halfway closed when Bucky pulls back.

He watches Tony for a moment and then wrestles off his flannel and drapes it over Tony’s torso. Tony gives him a curious look but doesn’t say anything, just shifts in his seat and draws it up against his chin, his slow steady inhale sending a pulse of heat through Bucky’s belly. It’s possessive and hot, dom pride swelling within him that his sub is safe and protected because of him.

Adjusting the seat and rebuckling himself takes only a moment and then he’s checking the mirrors and pulling back onto the road. A few minutes pass and he’s pretty sure Tony is asleep, but then a hand is brushing against his and when he glances over Tony smiles sleepily and steals his hand off the wheel. He laces their fingers together again and pulls Bucky’s hand over so it’s tucked against his chest and a wave of fondness hits Bucky so hard it feels almost impossible to breathe around the space it takes up in his chest.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but Bucky’s endured worse for less pleasurable reasons. He’s damn sure not going to rob Tony of this small comfort, not when he’d opened up to Bucky and made himself vulnerable. If there’s one thing Bucky will never do, it’s hurt Tony.

He’s not sure he could live with himself if he did.

Tony’s yawns come thick and fast and Bucky just grins and adjusts the music, glancing at Tony occasionally, watching from the corner of his eye as Tony finally falls asleep.

His foot eases off the gas and he hums along to Bing Crosby, heart light and happy. He takes his time driving back to the city to give Tony time to sleep, listening to his steady breathing, watching from the corner of his eye as his chest rises and falls slowly.

He has to shake Tony awake once they’re back in the city and he can’t help his soft, fond smile when Tony makes sleepy protesting sounds. “I know baby, but you’re home, okay? You can go sleep in your bed,” he encourages.

Tony blinks at him sleepily and then looks around in confusion, “Home?” he asks raspily, “looks more like an alley.”

Bucky smiles bashfully, “Well, I figured you didn’t want me to be seen at the tower too often after that first time, but I didn’t want you to have to worry about driving back from Brooklyn so…” he trails off and shrugs.

Tony frowns at him, “But how are you getting home?” he asks unhappily.

Bucky grins and reaches out to press his thumb into Tony’s pouting bottom lip. “I’ll take a cab,” he murmurs, “don’t you worry bout me baby, I always make it home safe,” he says, letting his hand fall away from Tony’s mouth.

Tony frowns for a minute longer and then his face brightens, “What if I send a car for you?” he offers hopefully, “then I’ll know you made it ok.”

Something in Bucky’s chest softens at the eager and kind offer, his smile going stupid and fond as he sighs softly and nods, reaching out again to cup Tony’s cheek. “Yea okay doll, since you asked so sweetly,” he murmurs, smiling at the way it makes Tony look bashfully away.

He waits till Tony exits the car and comes around to the driver’s side to gently push him up against the side of the car with one hand at his waist, the easy display of his strength eliciting a shuddering gasp from Tony. He boxes Tony in and grins softly, “Now, you’re gonna go home and take a shower and go to sleep, right?” he asks firmly, no hint of command in his voice, but the authority is there nonetheless.

Tony’s head bobs, eyes wide, “Yes sir. I...sometimes I have a hard time going back to sleep,” he admits, “but I’ll try.”

Bucky leans in and kisses his cheek, “That’s all I ask baby,” he murmurs approvingly. He nuzzles his nose against Tony’s cheek for a moment before brushing his lips against the corner of Tony’s mouth oh so gently. To his delight Tony sighs softly and his lips part easily, hands sliding up Bucky’s waist to cling at his sides.

Bucky kisses Tony then, delicate little brushes of his lips against Tony’s, tongue flicking out against the upper curve of Tony’s top lip. Tony gasps and makes a soft sweet sound, body arching into him, hands clinging to his broad shoulders now. Bucky shifts and kisses him deeply, hands leaving the car to slide under the back of Tony’s T-shirt, feeling Tony’s shudder when the cool metal of his palm spreads over his back.

He slows the kiss before it can get too heated like before, holding Tony close as he dots kisses all over his face, feeling the way Tony is smiling as he does so. He nuzzles at Tony’s hair and shifts his hands so one arm is banded around his waist and the other hand is used to play gently with the soft hair at the nape of Tony’s neck.

“You make me so happy darlin,” he admits quietly, “thank you for being so good and kind and sweet.” He rubs his hand up and down Tony’s back and kisses his hair, “Thank you doll,” he says, because frankly, it bears repeating and he’s happy to say it over and over again till he’s sure Tony believes him.

Tony nods against his broad chest, breath hot through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I want to be good for you,” he whispers, “I want to make you happy sir.” He peeks up at Bucky then, hesitance in his face before he licks his lips and speaks again. “You’re a good man Bucky, and an amazing dom. I’m lucky,” he says with a smile that’s far more sad than it has any right to be.

Bucky smiles softly and traces Tony’s mouth with his thumb before leaning in and kissing him gently—and _god yes_ that’s a thing he gets to do now, just like he’s been dreaming of for weeks. “I think we’re both lucky baby,” he whispers, “luckiest damn day I ever had was when I got matched with you.”

Tony smiles and winds his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him in for not a kiss, but a tight embrace that makes his eyes burn with unshed tears and his throat click as it goes dry and painful from emotion. This man is sweet down to his bones and Bucky doesn’t have a goddamn clue how he hasn’t already been snatched up by someone more deserving than Bucky.

They cling to each other for a few more moments before Bucky pulls away regretfully, putting real space between them this time and nodding at the car. “Time to go,” he urges gently, “get some sleep and I’ll see you soon enough.”

Tony pouts adorably but nods, opening the door to slide inside the car and adjust all the changes Bucky had made. He rolls the window down and smirks at Bucky, crooks a finger and well, Bucky isn’t exactly going to say _no_ when Tony’s got that look in his eyes.

He bends down and isn’t surprised at all when Tony kisses him, long and hard and hungry. Tony pulls away with one last parting nip at a Bucky’s lower lip and he doesn’t even try to hide his shudder at that, nor does he mute his soft groan. “Sweet dreams,” Tony says teasingly and _oh_ Bucky’s gonna have some dreams alright, but he’s not sure they’ll be _sweet_.

 _Filthy_ is more likely.

“You too darlin,” he murmurs with a wink, backing away so Tony can safely maneuver the car out of the alley. He watches it go and then disappear and debates for a moment just walking back to his apartment, but discards the thought because he knows that if he did that he’d hurt Tony’s feelings and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

Besides, a shiny black town car is already pulling up and well, he’s tired. He climbs inside and the car takes off, the driver silent. Bucky’s actually grateful for the silence because his head is full right now—thoughts of Tony and how beautiful he looked today laughing and carefree.

He forms a plan slowly as the car drives—their first scene will be wax play but he’s got an idea for another, for one that will be beautifully overwhelming, just like Tony. By the time the car pulls up in front of his apartment he’s half asleep but has a detailed plan in mind for the future.

He bids a polite goodbye to the driver and climbs the stairs to his apartment, his _everything_ sore and tired. He showers till the water runs cold and he’s still not sure all the paint is gone from his skin, but he’s too tired to care at this point. He doesn’t bother dressing, just falls into bed and grabs his other pillow, hugging it close as his eyes drift shut.

He hopes that with their lack of a scene this week that his symptoms won’t be too bad, but really he has no rubric for what’s going to happen. It could be fine, or terrible and there’s no real way of knowing. He shifts restlessly for a minute and then rolls over to grab his weighted blanket from beside the bed, spreading it out and patting it down before he shifts and gets comfortable.

It feels like a hug—not quite like Tony’s hug, but he lets himself pretend it’s the same and wiggles happily, smiling as he closes his eyes once more. Someday, he thinks sleepily, someday he’ll be able to have Tony in his bed, held close and tight as they both fall asleep.

Someday.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Everyone please do scream at HundredThousands for this STUNNING ART.](https://hundredthousands-art.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [And then go scream at Tiff for EQUALLY STUNNING ART WE ARE SO BLESSED.](https://tifftac.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by RiotFalling
> 
> [You can find me @riotwritesthings on Tumblr!](https://riotwritesthings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Tony pulls up outside Bucky’s building right at ten, after circling the next block over for the past twenty minutes. It’s all part of his plan to _not_ seem overeager, which was already off to a bad start when he couldn’t help leaving the tower almost an hour earlier than he needed to this morning.

The fact that he’s right on time is probably a dead giveaway all on it’s own though, what with his well-known habit of being fashionably late to everything, always.

At least Bucky is already outside waiting when Tony pulls to a stop at the curb, sitting on the steps to the building and apparently rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Tony’s first thought is to wonder if he’s been sleeping enough, if his shoulder still hurts, if he’s second guessing this entire plan like Tony has been on and off all week.

Tony viciously shoves all of that down though, because Bucky had certainly sounded excited when they talked about it yesterday, and there’s not a damn thing Tony can do about the rest of it anyways. He can’t fix everything, no matter how much he wants to.

He honks the horn when it doesn’t seem like Bucky has noticed him idling at the curb, and waits just long enough for Bucky to squint at the tinted passenger side window before he rolls it down and peers at Bucky over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t happen to have a man bun, would you?" he calls, leaning over a little in his seat,"I’m looking for a hipster, a specific one, mind you, I didn’t just wake up this morning with a craving.”

Bucky laughs, his face lighting up and the barely-there tension in his shoulders fading away, and Tony grins back as Bucky turns his head just enough to showcase the aforementioned man bun.

"This what you’re lookin for sweetheart?” Bucky calls back, and his smile gets wider as Tony feels his face flush.

 _That,_ that is what Tony has been failing to not let himself look forward to, what had him waking up this morning with his stomach a mess of nervous butterflies. The petnames and the way Bucky's laugh makes his chest go all squirmy in the best possible way, makes it so easy to just... ignore the rest of the world for a while.

Tony is still smiling helplessly as Bucky climbs into the car and settles in with a toolbox and what looks like some kind of tupperware container. Before Tony can actually say anything JARVIS beats him to it with a friendly “Good Morning Bucky, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Good to uh, see you too JARVIS,” Bucky replies with a wide grin, and Tony's chest is full of warmth even before Bucky turns to him and his smile softens into something warm and almost _fond._ “Hey baby, it’s very good to see you,” Bucky adds as he leans in to drop a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Before Tony has a chance to do more than sigh out a soft, surprised noise Bucky is leaning away again, leaving Tony with just the barest hint of Bucky's cologne and the warmth of Bucky's lips against his skin.

“It’s good to see you too,” Tony says, smiling back, and for a second he's nearly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the center console himself, chasing that fleeting contact. He manages to get himself under control after a second of just staring dopily, and he finally remembers to point down at the extra coffee waiting in the cup holder as he says “I brought you coffee. I don’t know how you take it, so there’s some sugar and creamer in the little compartment, wait, here —”

He leans over and taps the button to open the spot in the dashboard where Tony has replaced the dumb boring glove box with a small refrigerated compartment. It's mostly full of snacks that Tony tends to forget are there, but Bucky quickly finds the creamer and then Tony gets to watch in open amusement as Bucky begins carefully mixing his coffee.

Tony usually just drinks his coffee black, or when he actually takes the time he just dumps in enough extras that extras are _all_ he can taste. Bucky though, takes the time to taste his coffee before and _as_ he slowly mixes in sugar and creamer, like he's determined to make the perfect cup of coffee right here in the passenger seat of Tony's car.

When Bucky finally finishes he looks up to catch Tony watching him shamelessly, and all he does is laugh softly and ask “What? You never seen a man make his coffee?”

“You’re very particular about your coffee, hmm?" Tony asks as he drags his eyes away from Bucky and pulls away from the curb, shaking his head in an attempt to hide his wide grin. He can't help shooting a quick glance over at Bucky as he teasingly adds "One might even say you have a _hip_ way of making it.”

“That was terrible," Bucky says flatly as he sips his coffee, then winks in response to Tony's offended huff and adds "Please try harder.”

“What, are my jokes too _mainstream_ for you?” Tony asks, unable to hide his smirk as he navigates through traffic. His chest feels lighter than it has since he ended his phone call with Bucky yesterday, and Tony finds himself surprisingly eager to get out of the city, _away_ from everything. He's not all that great at pushing his mountain of responsibilities to the back of his mind for even a little while, at least not in the past couple of years, but it's another bright, clear day and Bucky is obviously trying not to grin, and right now it _almost_ feels possible.

“Mmhmm, I prefer vintage,” Bucky replies slowly, like he's giving it actual thought, “It’s got more of my vibe.”

“Your _vibe??"_ Tony repeats with an incredulous laugh and he is absolutely failing to hide his own wide smile at this point. "Oh my god that’s it, get out of my car,” he demands even as he pulls onto the highway and hits the gas, taking them out of the city.

Bucky just chuckles and takes the lid off of the container in his lap, completely unconcerned with Tony’s fake outrage as he pulls out what looks like a couple cookies and offers “You want one?”

“What are they?” Tony asks as he glances over, because the faint smell of cinnamon is definitely enticing, but they look a little lumpier than most cookies and he has learned his lesson about just showing things in his mouth without asking questions first.

“Rugelach,” Bucky says plainly, and then grins when Tony feels his eyebrows rise in confusion. "It's a recipe from my ma’s family,” Bucky explains before Tony can start pouting at him, “It’s real old, family legend has that it was passed down by the savtas to each new generation of daughters.”

“So what’s in it?” Tony asks, perking up a little because he has _always_ been a sucker for homemade cookies, “And what’s that word, savta?”

“It’s Hebrew for grandmother or grandfather. I meant grandmother in this case," Bucky says, and then shakes the container just a little as he adds "These ones have cinnamon, raisins, walnuts and a little chocolate in em, but the recipes vary family to family.”

It's an interesting combination, but Tony certainly likes all of those things on their own, so after a second he nods and says “ Sounds good to me, I’ll take two. ” He holds out one hand, keeping his other on the wheel and his eyes on the road because he'd rather avoid getting the _'road safety'_ lecture from yet another person.

He doesn't miss the way Bucky carefully selects what Tony has to assume are the best two in the batch before setting them in his waiting palm, and Tony is already smiling as he eagerly bites into one of them. The first bite is all it takes for Tony to be completely sold, and he can't possibly contain the noise that slips out of him as he gives a happy little wiggle.

“Oh my _god_ this is good,” Tony groans once he swallows down his mouthful of cookie, “God what are you, a Keebler elf?”

Bucky laughs, which just makes Tony grin wider, and then holds the container out to Tony as he says “Eat as many as you want darlin, I made em for you.”

Tony can only side-eye him for a couple long seconds, completely thrown because _fuck_ when was the last time someone _made him cookies?_ He can't even remember now, and his throat is tight with emotion as he grabs a couple more from the waiting container. Tony has to drop his handful of baked goods into his lap before he can actually start eating, and then he wastes no time shoving the rest of the first one into his mouth.

“I didn’t know you’re Jewish,” Tony says around his giant bite of cookie, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Based that on my cock, huh?” Bucky asks, so flat and dry that Tony nearly spews crumbs everywhere as he barks out a surprised laugh.

In his efforts to _not_ do that to his car or these amazing cookies Tony accidentally inhales a bunch of crumbs instead, and he ends up choking and coughing around more shaking laughter. When he catches sight of the panicked look on Bucky's face Tony just laugh-coughs harder, until his eyes are watering dangerously and his strangled breaths start to wheeze in his chest.

“Drink!” Bucky orders frantically, shoving Tony's coffee cup into his free hand and laughing weakly as he adds “God, please don’t die for my dumb jokes.” He continues watching Tony closely as he sips at his coffee, clears his throat, and then finally manages to draw in a deep breath. “You ok?” Bucky asks as Tony sets his coffee down again, pretty obviously trying not to hover and fret.

“Yea I’m good," Tony assures him with a nod, then pauses to clear his throat one more time before he shoots Bucky a wink and adds "I just didn’t think your cock would kill me like _this.”_

Bucky laughs and settles back in his seat with a shake of his head, and Tony grins widely. Any nerves he might have felt are long gone, left behind somewhere near the curb by Bucky's apartment building, and Tony is sure they'll come back at some point, but laughing and joking around with Bucky already feels so familiar, feels _easy._ The conversation continues effortlessly as the traffic around them begins to thin out and Tony even manages to eat his cookies like an adult. _Without_ choking and crashing and killing them both.

Tony had kind of worried, while laying awake all night staring at his ceiling, that they would run out of things to talk about doing the hour long drive and be stuck in awkward silence. Tony _hates_ awkward silences.

To his relief though Bucky seems perfectly happy to hear Tony's update on how fixing up the Jaguar is going, and doesn't even complain when Tony spends a good twenty minutes rambling about his latest annoyance at work. Bucky even chimes in with his own stories, and Tony spends the last half of the dive laughing over the wild shit he never would have guessed people assume about their cars.

When they arrive at the cabin Tony is almost surprised at how quickly the time passed, and he hurriedly shoves his last cookie into his mouth as he climbs out of the car after Bucky.

“Wow this is gorgeous,” Bucky sighs out as he looks around in open awe, and Tony just smiles as he watches Bucky drag in a deep breath of fresh, _non_ -New York scented air.

The last of Tony's worries that this might turn out to be a terrible idea finally fade away, because he can actually _see_ the way Bucky's shoulders drop as he lets his breath out again, like he's letting go of some of the tension he's been carrying around for who knows how long. Tony is now _so glad_ that he suggested this, because watching Bucky relax a little more is definitely worth whatever else might happen.

“Wanna show me around?” Bucky asks once he opens his eyes again and catches Tony watching him, smiling and tipping his chin towards the cabin.

Tony ducks his chin as heads up the stairs that lead to the decently sized front porch. The sight of the chairs and table still set up on the porch brings a small smile to Tony's face, but he bites his lip instead of letting himself launch into the story of the time he and Pepper tried to eat out here and basically lived out the finale of _Birds._ It's a pretty funny story, but he doesn't figure Bucky wants to hear it.

So instead Tony just unlocks and pushes the door open, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Bucky hasn't gotten too distracted admiring the scenery before he steps into the small house.

The caretakers do a good job at least, the cabin doesn't smell nearly as musty as it probably should after so long without being used and Bucky certainly doesn't seem to have any complaints as he draws in another deep breath. Tony glances around quickly, just to familiarize himself with the place, but he's far more interested in watching Bucky look the cabin over, wondering what he thinks.

He's just starting to worry that maybe Bucky was expecting something _more,_ something bigger or fancier, and when Bucky looks back at him again Tony has to swallow down the urge to defend that he didn't design the place. Instead he just waves one hand around vaguely and blandly declares “Well, this is it.”

Bucky nods with a soft chuckle and then teasingly asks “Right, well, you wanna show me the rest?”

Tony rolls his eyes with a dramatic huff, because at least seventy percent of the cabin can be seen from right here in the entryway, but willingly leads the way into the kitchen. “Food gets made here, apparently,” he says dryly, and then turns enough to shoot Bucky a grin as he adds “Not that I would know.”

“Can’t cook?” Bucky asks, most of his attention on looking over the counters and unused appliances.

“I know a few recipes," Tony admits with a small shrug, "But yea, it’s safer generally if I’m not the one cooking.” He decides to spare Bucky any of his kitchen-fire-horror-stories by continuing the tour before Bucky has a chance to ask, waving for Bucky to follow him as he heads into the hallway that leads to his tiny office. “My office for when I’m here and want to do work,” he explains, "which is... most of the time I'm here."

Tony winces a little at just how true that is, and the fact that as he looks down the ball a big part of his mind is trying to wander off with the list of things he still needs to work on. Before he can get too lost on that train of thought he turns and leads Bucky out into the attached greenhouse instead.

He catches the surprised look that Bucky shoots at the thriving plants that fill the room, and Tony grins as he explains, “I have someone take care of the property. These were all left here back when Pep and I were still together."

Tony runs his fingers over the wide leaf of the plant closest to him, breath catching in his chest a little because he's sure Pepper told him the name of this plant, but he can't for the life of him remember it now. And he never did get an answer on if she wants any of these numerous plants _back._

Eventually Tony realizes that he's been lost in his own head for a little too long, and _dammit_ he'd promised himself he _wasn't_ going to bring up Pepper every thirty seconds. Bucky hadn't exactly seemed to mind any of the times Tony mentioned her in passing, but that doesn't mean he won't get annoyed by constantly being reminded that he's standing in a place Tony used to share with his ex.

“Sorry," he says, shooting Bucky a rueful smile and aiming for a joking tone as he quickly leads them out the double doors onto the back porch, "The last thing you probably want to hear about is my ex.”

He leans against the wooden railing that surrounds the porch, looking out over the lake as he tries to get his mind back in order. It's somehow both easier and harder than he expected, being back here. Facing the reminder that he'd ever thought he could go back to some kind of _'normal,'_ that he could be the kind of person who can take _breaks,_ and have a _relationship,_ and not eventually ruin everything he touches.

Bucky steps up to the railing beside him and Tony can't help thinking that on the other hand Pepper is probably right, as she usually is. Maybe it's time for him to make some _new_ memories here, give that whole _'moving on'_ thing a proper try. Even if it means he'll just have a couple more memories haunting the cabin when this all over.

“I don’t mind,” Bucky says softly and it takes Tony a second to remember what he's talking about.

Right, he'd been worried he was mentioning Pepper too much, and _fuck_ he really is all over the place. That doesn't stop him from shooting Bucky a small smile, grateful for the words as much the way Bucky gently bumps their shoulders together.

“Honestly, she was your friend then and she still is, I’m glad she’s in your life,” Bucky adds, and Tony feels his smile morph into a look of surprise. “Let me guess," Bucky says as he turns around and leans back against the railing instead, "Other people haven’t been as understanding?”

Tony can't help huffing out a soft laugh at that. He hasn't really stayed friends with any of his other exes, not like he has with Pepper, and it's never really come up like this before but he can just _imagine_ what Ty would have to say about it. Tony drops his gaze as he tries to figure out how to answer that and he gets maybe a _tiny_ bit distracted staring at Bucky's arms. The way he has his elbows propped up on the wooden railing makes his biceps bunch up, looking extra huge and solid, and Tony apparently stares long enough for Bucky to notice because he purposefully flexes his right arm and then winks when Tony snaps his gaze back up.

“I uh," Tony stutters as he feels his face flush, mouth running away without thought as he admits "Yea, my ex, he didn’t like it. He was..." There are a lot of ways he could finish that sentence, _controlling, obsessive, a goddamn lunatic,_ but Tony doesn't really want to get into all of that right now, or _ever,_ so he settles for the less heavy and still true "Jealous.”

Bucky nods slowly, like he's hearing everything Tony isn't saying, and his voice is dry as he declares “Sounds like he was a dick.” While Tony is gaping uselessly and trying to figure out how to respond to that, Bucky pushes himself upright and waves a hand back towards the door as he asks “I spy a second level, what’s up there?”

Tony shakes his head with a soft huff at the obvious charge of subject, but it’s not like he actually _wants_ to talk about it, so he pushes away from the railing himself. “That’s where I keep all the bodies of my enemies,” he jokes, tossing a grin at Bucky over his shoulder as he leads the way back inside and towards the stairs.

“Cool, I usually just dissolve mine in acid,” Bucky replies easily, and it catches Tony so off guard that he can’t stop his laugh from coming out as that dumb, loud cackle.

At least Bucky doesn’t say anything about it, even though Tony can feel heat flooding his cheeks again, he just follows Tony down the short hallway towards the bedroom.

Tony watches Bucky look over the room rather than doing it himself, because he could do _without_ the memories of Pepper decorating it, thank you very much.

And watching Bucky is plenty interesting anyways, the way his nose wrinkles a little like he’s judging the color scheme or something before he turns to Tony and simply says “It’s nice.”

Bucky grins sheepishly when Tony fixes him with a flat look, because his attempts at politeness are not actually needed, Tony is well aware that it’s pretty obviously not his style.

Tony had just... really underestimated how much of this cabin feels like _Pepper’s,_ from the room full of plants to the bedroom to the office down the hall, and he’s still kind of waiting for the moment that Bucky decides that it’s _too much._ He really should have had someone come empty the place out before today, _why_ didn’t he think of that?!

“It’s all Pepper’s design,” Tony admits, because he’s sure Bucky has already figured that out, “I haven’t been out here in like a year, so at some point I’ll have to hire someone to redo it I suppose.” The idea makes something in his chest pull tight, but he knows it’s for the best, and they’re not exactly here to discuss interior decorating anyways. So he tries to shrug it off and get them back on topic, finally glancing around the room himself as he asks “Would this work for what you have in mind? There’s places to tie someone down on the bed and we can install whatever you want.”

At least wondering what exactly Bucky has in mind, because he _still_ doesn’t know, is a pretty good distraction from letting his eyes linger on the armchair by the window, the shelves of books, the way the corner of Bucky’s mouth is twitching a little like he’s trying _not_ to frown. Tony is just starting to revisit his earlier worry that actually, this was a _terrible idea,_ when Bucky finally speaks up.

“Show me the rest of the upstairs,” Bucky says decisively, and at least he has a small smile on his face now, like _he’s_ the one trying to put Tony at ease, “I need to see it all before I decide.”

”There’s not much more to it,” Tony warns, but leads Bucky back down the hallway to the door at the other end, not even pausing as they pass the door across from the stairs and he quickly explains “That was Pep’s office, wouldn’t be any good.”

Tony has to steel himself before he pushes the door open, mind a mess as he tries _not_ to remember all the discussions he’d had with Pepper about what they should do with this room. They’d talked about everything from a second office to Tony’s insistence that they need a second-floor wine cellar, Pepper’s more reasonable suggestion of a guest room, and even the completely insane dream of a _nursery._

He has to swallow down the insane urge to laugh as he pushes open the door and the plain white walls are like a slap in the face all over again, like they’re mocking him for the fact that the relationship hadn’t even lasted long enough for them to agree and finally decide on something.

Tony shoves all of that down, drags his gaze over to Bucky again and reminds himself that the whole point of this is getting Bucky out of the city, away from the noise, and if it forces Tony to finally deal with some of this shit, well, that’s probably for the best. And it’s Tony’s issue to deal with anyways, it’s probably his fault for not letting himself think about any of this before now anyways.

At least Bucky seems, confusingly, more happy with this room, and he nods before meeting Tony’s gaze and declaring “This is much better.”

“ _Right_ , an empty room is better,” Tony repeats dryly as he glances around the room again, like he’s expecting to see something else but nope, still just an empty, boring room.

Bucky’s grin goes a little wicked, and before Tony can demand to know what he’s up to Bucky is crossing the room, plastering himself to Tony’s back and wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. A hard shudder runs up Tony’s spine because _fuck_ Bucky feels so huge against him, his chest is wide and solid against Tony’s back, arms thick and strong and it feels like he’s wrapped all around Tony, completely surrounding him.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Bucky says softly, his voice low and heated as his lips drag along the base of Tony’s neck. “We’ll install some hooks up there for some suspension bondage,” he continues, releasing his hold on Tony with one hand to point up at the exposed beams, “It’ll let me tie you up and then hang you in the air however I want, like the work of art you are.”

The next shiver runs through Tony’s entire body and he can’t completely stop the noise that rises in his chest, heat rushing through him and _oh,_ so _that’s_ what Bucky had in mind. Tony is almost surprised at the pleasant twist in his stomach at the idea of being that tied up, that _helpless,_ the heavy weight of Bucky’s eyes on him the entire time.

Bucky shifts his arms slightly again, pointing to the far wall as he says “We’ll install a toy pegboard and storage center so everything will be in its place when it’s not being used.” He pauses to drop a kiss to the side of Tony’s neck and then continues like he doesn’t even notice the sharp gasp that Tony drags in, the way he shudders again, “I’d also like to get a nice comfortable table for you to lay on, something padded, but with restraints and tie off points.”

“W-what for?” Tony asks and he can’t even be mad about the way his voice shakes breathily, too busy leaning back into Bucky’s solid weight against him, soaking up the warmth of him and shivering again at the way that Bucky doesn’t even seem to _notice_ the additional weight.

When Bucky hums thoughtfully Tony can feel the rumble of it through his whole body, and he has to swallow down another choked sound as Bucky says “Mmm, massages, edging, sensation play maybe.”

“Like wax?” Tony blurts before he can stop himself, stomach twisting again with equal part nerves and arousal. The list of things he _hasn’t_ done is pretty short, but wax play is definitely on there and Tony can admit that he’s _wondered._

Bucky presses his lips to the side of Tony’s neck and his next hum vibrates through Tony’s skin, lips brushing against Tony’s throat and leaving tingles in his wake as he says “You interested in that baby? I could get a red candle and drip wax all over your pretty skin.”

There’s no way Tony could hide the hard shudder that runs through him at the suggestion, even if he _wanted_ to, and he's far too distracted tipping his head to the side with a soft sigh, chasing the feeling of Bucky's lips against his skin, the way that he can feel the shape of Bucky's lips tracing over his fluttering pulse.

“I’ve never tried it, but I’ve always been curious," Tony admits with a barely-there nod and then stills when Bucky's metal fingers slide up into his hair. "Does it hurt?” he asks with a soft sigh as Bucky starts massaging his scalp and the back of his neck, firm and strong but _so gentle._

“Nah, not like you’re thinking," Bucky says, lips still moving up the line of Tony's neck as he asks "You’ve touched hot wax before, right?”

Tony hums in agreement and gives another tiny nod, eyes falling closed and he's mostly just focused on trying not to dislodge Bucky's fingers in his hair. There's heat starting to grow in his stomach, building with every brush of Bucky's lips and every press of Bucky's thumb behind the curve of his ear, and Tony just lets it grow. He'd much rather focus on the heavy weight of Bucky's other hand on his hip, the way the curl of arousal in his gut has the twist of nerves in his chest slowly fading any to be no doubt dealt with later.

“With wax play you hold the candle up higher so by the time the wax reaches your skin it’s not as hot," Bucky continues, voice dropping lower as his fingers play with the hem of Tony's worn shirt, "Hold it a little closer and it’s hotter.”

“I think I’d like that,” Tony whispers with another small nod. He may not be a fan of the cold these days, has enough trouble with his circulation as it is and that's _before_ it starts reminding him of the chill of the caves, but he can't deny the arousal churning low in his stomach at the thought of Bucky dripping warm wax across his skin, slow and careful and _intentional._

He's broken out of his hazy thoughts by Bucky's teeth against his skin, nipping at his neck just hard enough to send sparks down Tony's spine and have his eyes snapping open with a sharp gasp.

Before he can think it through properly, or _at all,_ Tony cranes his head to the side so he can fix Bucky with his best offended look as he playfully huffs _“Rude.”_

Oh, oh that was a _bad_ idea, because now Tony is just staring at Bucky from _dangerously_ close and he knows he should move, or at least _breathe,_ but Tony is stupidly caught by the bright blue ring of Bucks eyes around his blown out pupils.

They're close enough that Tony can feel the warmth of Bucky's breath against his lips, close enough that he can see the way Bucky clenches his jaw a little before his fingers slip beneath Tony's shirt and they both gasp at the press of Bucky's calloused fingers against the skin of his hip.

“Fuck,” Bucky says and it's barely even a whisper, just a hoarse sigh that Tony is _almost_ close enough to taste, he can practically _feel_ the movement of Bucky's lips against his own as Bucky breathes out “Baby, Tony, can I kiss you?”

 _"I really wish you would,"_ Tony says, or _tries_ to say, but all that comes out is a soft, choked sound of surprise. Instead he has to resort to nodding dumbly as his eyes go wide and his heart trips all over itself in his chest.

“Fuck,” Bucky sighs again, voice rough like its being torn out of him, and then abruptly tightens his hold on Tony’s hair until Tony is moaning with it, sharp pleasure-pain bursting across his scalp and spreading through his whole body. Tony's spine arches sharply as he leans back into it, trying to chase the burn of it, until the back of his head bumps against Bucky’s shoulder and he can barely hear it past his own thundering pulse as Bucky whispers “Look how gorgeous you are doll.”

Tony barely has time to flush at the words before Bucky is kissing him, _really_ kissing him, like he’s just been _dying_ for the chance. Bucky's lips are _so soft,_ slow and _demanding_ as they drag against his own and Tony moans into it, flails one hand up to cling to the back of Bucky's neck and tries to pull him _closer._ Bucky's hand slides further beneath Tony's shirt to spread huge and warm against his stomach and Tony can feel the way Bucky's groan rumbles through his chest where he's pressed snug against Tony's back, doesn't doubt that Bucky can feel the answers shudder that works its way through Tony.

Bucky catches Tony’s bottom lip between his own for a moment, then nips at it as he slides his hand further up Tony’s stomach until Tony is moaning again, practically shaking with the force of the fire rushing through him. Bucky’s teeth dig into his lip a little harder, just enough to make Tony jolt, and then Bucky sucks on the throbbing skin like he’s trying to soothe the burn.

All it actually accomplishes is bring more blood rushing to skin already starting to tingle with over sensitivity, punctuated by every drag of Bucky’s stubble across his skin. It brings back a flood of memories of the way Bucky’s lips and stubble felt against his hole as Bucky had rimmed him, the ache and burn he’d left in his wake and the same single-minded focus he’d used to lick Tony open now being used to kiss him stupid.

By the time Bucky pulls away enough to flick his tongue briefly along the curve of Tony’s upper lip, hot as a brand, Tony can feel his cock starting to throb in his jeans as he shakes and gasps. He arches in an attempt to chase after Bucky’s lips, get more of Bucky’s hand moving slowly up his chest, and then whines low in his throat when Bucky’s grip on his hair keeps him firmly in place.

When Bucky’s teeth press against the line of his jaw Tony gasps again, chest nearly heaving with it at this point and his lips wet and tingling with every rush of air and breathy moan that slips out of him. Bucky groans again, rumbling through his wide chest and Tony can _feel_ it where Bucky’s teeth are still dragging along his jaw and he just clings harder, burying his fingers in Buchy’s hair at the base of his neck and no doubt making a mess of his stupid sexy hipster bun.

“So fuckin sweet baby, goddamn,” Bucky whispers in a low growl, lips still moving over Tony’s skin and the slight catch and burn of their stubble has Tony shaking again. Bucky’s teeth catch along the underside of his jaw, followed by heated swipes of his tongue, and Tony whines again at the memory of the way those teeth had felt sinking into the meat of his ass, the deep marks of it had left.

Tony _knows_ that there are a million reasons he _can’t_ walk around with teeth marks on his throat, but he can’t stop the next desperate whine that slips out of him because _fuck he wants them._

It’s definitely for the best that Bucky switches to gently nuzzling at his throat, leaving soft kisses in his wake, because it gives Tony a chance to at least _start_ to catch his breath, a chance to _think_ past the heated burn of arousal churning through his veins. The downside is that the gentle press of Bucky’s soft lips and the hot rush of Bucky’s breath over his skin has Tony _melting,_ leaning back against Bucky heavily with a sigh.

Bucky’s lips move up his throat, dropping one sweet kiss to Tony’s chin before landing on his mouth and kissing him again, slow and intoxicating until Tony’s head is _spinning_ with it. Until Tony can’t do anything but collapse back against him, thrilling at the fact that he can feel Bucky gasping for breath too, like he’s just as worked up as Tony. Bucky slides his hand back down Tony’s chest to his stomach, thumb still stroking against his skin gently as his other hand loosens his hold on Tony’s hair and resumes massaging his scalp again.

Every brush of Bucky’s lips against his own has Tony shivering, every sweet peck has him singing out another breathy sound, and Tony may have given himself a stern talk before he left the house this morning about _not_ getting attached but _fuck_ he could happily do just this for hours.

There’s no demanding and awkward stab of someone else’s tongue in his mouth, no messy drool, just the soft but _hungry_ drag of Bucky’s lips against his and Tony may have kissed a lot of people in his day, but he’s never been kissed like _this._ Like Bucky would also be perfectly happy to do nothing but kiss him all day, hands gentle and strong as he easily supports Tony’s weight.

Another whine slips out of Tony's chest when Bucky pulls away, trying in vain to tug him back in, but Tony's limbs all feel heavy and stupid and his fingers slide free from Bucky's hair as he pulls further away. Before Tony can work up any more whining complaints he finds himself easily spun in place by Bucky's strong hands on his hips, until he's facing Bucky and his head is spinning, hazy and floaty and _warm._

This is good too, now Tony can finally wind his arms around Bucky's thick waist, melting against the solid weight of him even as Tony's stomach gives another hard twist of heated want.

When he tips his chin up, hoping for more kisses, just a little more, Tony finds his breath catching thickly in his chest. Bucky’s eyes are _so dark_ , fixed on Tony's face like there's nothing else in the world, his lips nearly as red and swollen as Tony's feel, and Tony leans into it eagerly when Bucky wraps an arm around his shoulders, fingers pressing into Tony's hair again as Bucky's lips brush _so lightly_ against his own.

Tony moans out something that might have been intended as Bucky's name and tangles his fingers in the back of Bucky's shirt, clinging harder as Bucky continues kissing him, slow and sweet and _consuming._ Bucky's other hand slides from Tony's hip to the small of his back, pulling him in closer and Tony jolts, gasping sharply when his cock presses into Bucky's hip, already half-hard and throbbing in his jeans at the answering line of heat pressed against his own hip.

He thrills all over again at the knowledge that Bucky _wants_ him, even outside of a scene, even when Tony is dressed in his worn-soft workshop clothes. It’s such a heady feeling, being wanted like this, and Tony sighs into it as Bucky kisses him again, melting impossibly further at the feeling of Bucky groaning against his lips. They're both panting when Bucky pulls away again, just far enough to rest his forehead against Tony’s as they both gasp for air, close and warm and intimate.

“Fuck doll, the way you _sound,”_ Bucky groans breathlessly, still close enough that Tony call feel the motion of it as Bucky slowly shakes his head, like _he's_ the one who's stunned with a brain made of mush. “It’s enough to kill a man,” Bucky adds with a soft laugh and Tony pries his eyes open just in time to watch the way Bucky's jaw clenches as he swallows thickly before whispering _“God,_ what you do to me baby.” Bucky's eyes flutter open and once again Tony finds his breath sticking in his throat, caught under the weight of those stormy blue eyes and he almost misses it when Bucky asks “You okay baby? You look soft and sweet.”

“A little fuzzy, but I’m good sir,” Tony admits with a disjointed nod and a dazed smile, although _little_ might be a bit of an understatement if he's blurting it out so easily. Sure, there's a tiny corner of Tony's mind that knows he's probably going to spend another night staring at his ceiling, wondering if he should be more worried about how _easily_ Bucky puts him here, but right now it's a distant thought.

Tony would much rather focus on leaning more heavily into Bucky's chest and grinning dopily when Bucky doesn’t so much as shift under his dead weight. He’s still clinging to the back of Bucky's shirt, but he slowly loosens his hold on the soft fabric so he can slide one hand along Bucky's side and then drags his palm up the strong muscles of Bucky's chest.

Okay, maybe Tony is _a lot_ fuzzy, or he'd probably snap out of it _before_ he finds himself hesitantly cupping Bucky's cheek. Because this feels like a whole new level of dangerous, entirely too close. But hey, he's already doing it, and Bucky just leans into his touch, eyes falling closed again, so Tony dares to let himself drag his thumb along the sharp curve of Bucky’s cheekbone.

He is officially failing at his _‘keep a healthy distance’_ plan, and Tony is going to have to have serious words with himself about that later. For now though, he’s too busy admiring the red bow of Bucky’s lips, the lingering flush on his cheeks, and struggling to breathe past the lump of emotion building in his chest.

It’s some confusing and overwhelming mix of fondness and lingering arousal and _pride,_ because sure Tony only sees him once a week, but he’s pretty sure Bucky looks more relaxed than Tony has ever seen him. And _Tony_ did that, he may still spend a decent amount of his time wondering what Bucky is actually getting out of this, if _anything,_ how long it’ll be before Bucky realizes that he’s _not enough,_ but it’s hard for even Tony’s self-doubt to argue with the sight in front of him.

He strokes his thumb down Bucky’s jaw, over the scruff of his beard, and Tony’s heart lurches in his chest as Bucky leans into it a little more heavily, his breathing going slow and deep. There’s a looseness to Bucky’s shoulders and a softening of the lines around his eyes that has warmth swelling huge in Tony’s chest again. Sam’s words come floating back to him, _‘I’ve never seen him looking so overall happy,’_ and Tony may not be able to do much right these days, but at least it seems like he’s not fucking _this_ up.

Eventually Tony realizes that they’ve just been standing here for quite a while now, and the truly disturbing part of that realization is that he would be perfectly happy to continue doing it. But with every minute they stand here the closer Tony comes to breaking the comfortable silence with all sorts of things he shouldn’t admit, like he has no idea how he got this lucky, he was _so sure_ he was going to end up matched with another asshole and hating every second of it and he doesn’t know what to _do_ with someone like Bucky. He doesn’t know how to be good enough.

Tony definitely doesn’t want to go blurting _any_ of that out, so instead he pulls himself away with a sigh. He laughs softly, _fondly,_ as Bucky’s eyes slowly flutter open again, and Tony has to resist the urge to just lean in and kiss Bucky again, instead forcing himself to shuffle back a couple more inches as he says “We uh, should decide what else we might need for the room so I can order it.”

“I can order it,” Bucky offers, still blinking rapidly like he’s struggling to get his brain back online and Tony grins a little wider as another rush of warm pride runs through him.

“Nah, if I order it it’ll be here tonight and this way we don’t have to wait on those fuckers over at Amazon,” Tony says with a shake of his head, and then feels his nose wrinkle slightly because _gross,_ he said the _cursed word._ “Fuck Bezos,” he grumbles to himself, shuddering slightly, and then raises his voice to call out “J-man make a note to do another wave of hiring from the big three.”

Bucky is laughing softly when Tony turns back to look at him, but all he does is nod and say “Yea okay.”

“Hey J, talk to big sis and go ahead and order everything on my wishlist,” Tony instructs, and pauses to think for a second before adding “Plus a top of the line massage table with tie downs, plastic sheeting, red candles for wax play, hooks, nails, you know what I need.” He pauses to grin when Bucky quirks a questioning eyebrow at him, then glances around the room and figures fuck it, might as well go all out. “Get enough paint to cover the walls too,” he adds before he can overthink it, then tosses another teasing grin at Bucky as he asks “I’m thinking gold on the pegboard wall and hot rod red for the others?”

He’s kind of expecting Bucky to object, to ask if that isn’t a _little_ much, but instead Bucy just smirks knowingly and says “It’s your room doll, but I think you know my opinion on those colors.”

Tony feels heat trying to rise in cheeks again as he sputters out “You heard the man J.” JARVIS confirms that it’ll be done, and Tony turns back to Bucky as he says “If you think of anything else we need, just text me and I’ll have J order it, I can get a painting crew out here tomorrow—”

“Let’s do it ourselves,” Bucky interrupts, shaking his head slightly, “Just you and me.”

Tony can only stare at him for a second, not sure _why_ Bucky seems to think painting a room themselves will be _fun,_ but after a second he shrugs and says “Sure. But I’m ordering pizza and having a drone deliver it.”

He says the last part like a warning, and then grins when Bucky laughs, bringing out the little smile lines around his mouth and eyes in a way that makes Tony’s heart lurch concerningly. When Bucky leans in to kiss him again Tony leans into it helplessly, and then has to force his eyes open when Bucky pulls away all too soon.

“Whatever you want baby,” Bucky says with a soft smile, like a _promise,_ and Tony has to swallow down another swell of emotion.

* * *

The drive back into the city is a little more subdued, the conversation quieter but still easy as Tony shamelessly finishes off the cookies and coaxes more stories out of Bucky about the shop he works at.

When Tony pulls up at the curb outside Bucky’s apartment building Bucky kisses him again, after _asking_ first, sweet and hopeful and how could Tony _possibly_ say no to that? All he can do is nod eagerly, leaning in and painfully aware of the warmth rising in his face as Bucky cups his cheek, and then Bucky is kissing him again and Tony can’t really think about anything else.

Tony’s chest clenches almost painfully as Bucky’s lips brush so softly over his, slow and soft until Tony is melting into it, totally unconcerned with the center console digging into his ribs as he tries to lean in closer, tries to chase the barely there pressure of Bucky’s lips against his own.

Bucky pulls away slowly, dropping a couple more light kisses to the corner of Tony’s eye, then his lips, then the tip of his nose, and Tony is still trying to blink himself back to the real world as Bucky starts to climb out of the car. Tony barely manages to stutter out a goodbye in response to Bucky’s, and then he takes the chance to drag in a couple deep breaths as he watches Bucky walk the short distance to the building.

By the time Bucky disappears through the front door Tony _almost_ feels together again, at least enough to drag in one more breath that only shakes a little before he pulls away from the curb again.

The happy, kiss-drunk high that he’s been riding slowly starts to fade as he drives back to the tower, but at least it doesn’t fade too quickly. The nerves wind their way back into his chest slowly, deflating the bright bubble of happiness in his lungs. At least he can cling to the fact that Bucky liked the cabin, that he definitely seemed less stressed and overwhelmed out there than he had at the hotel last week.

Now Tony just has to worry that it’ll turn out to be a terrible idea for all _the other reasons_ he’s thought of. Reasons like despite the fact that he was up half the night worrying about it, all it took was the sight of Bucky’s smile as he'd climbed out of the car for Tony to completely _forget_ to worry about being in the middle of nowhere with a dom who’s still essentially a stranger.

He forgot that he’s supposed to be waiting on the other shoe to drop, he’s supposed to be on the lookout for red flags, because Tony can't shake the feeling that this little arrangement has been going entirely too well. He _doesn't_ wake up the day after a scene drowning in self-loathing (just his usual baseline level of self-loathing), and whenever Tony lets himself think about it for too long he starts getting twitchy again.

There's no way it should be this easy, not with the _mountain_ of baggage between them, and Tony _knows_ he shouldn't just blindly trust it when Bucky promises not to hurt him and that all he wants is to _‘take care of Tony.’_ But somehow lately Tony manages to forget about all of that whenever they’re together, and it leaves him worrying extra hard and beating himself up for _not_ worrying as soon as he’s alone again.

It’s a bit of a vicious cycle, but at the same time the thought of it eventually ending makes his chest clench almost painfully.

By the time he gets back to the tower all those worries have come right back around, wrapped tightly around his lungs, and he’s more than ready to get back to work. Unfortunately he’s barely climbed out of the car before Pepper magically appears in the lab, and Tony _really_ needs to have a talk with his AI about alerting people to his whereabouts. Even if those people _are_ Pepper.

“I’ve thought of more questions,” Pepper says, completely forgoing all greetings, and Tony huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“Of course you have,” he says, because he really _had_ seen this coming, and he’s probably just lucky she didn't ambush him on his way out of the tower this morning. "Can we at least order something to eat while you interrogate me? All I've had all day is coffee and cookies and I'm not in college, I can't live on that anymore."

Tony laughs at the way Pepper's face twitches a little with badly-hidden horror, but she agrees and Tony figures this will be a pretty good distraction from getting caught up in his worries again. He wasn't actually looking forward to being alone just yet anyways, and once again he's immensely grateful for still having Pepper in his life, warm relief spreading through his chest all over again that Bucky _doesn't mind,_ and Tony hadn't even realized how much he was dreading that conversation in the back of his mind.

So they eat a late lunch, Pepper asks the impressive list of questions she's come up with since yesterday, and Tony cracks up when her main concern seems to be did they _really_ just _happen_ to be matched up by the site she recommended? Tony assures her that yes, she still gets total credit for this, skillfully avoids the questions he doesn't want to answer, and tries not to blush when Pepper slyly asks how it's going.

He manages to hold onto the ball of happiness as he talks and laughs with Pepper, pushes the worry down just a little longer.

* * *

Tony manages to keep himself distracted most of Saturday, barely even pausing to eat or refill his coffee as he works non-stop. Still, it feels like the list of things he needs to do never gets any shorter and the worries start to catch up eventually, just like he knew they would.

There are always more emails with contracts or proposals he needs to review, always more little fires that he needs to remind people they can put out themselves, and once he pulls up the list of updates he needs to do on the Avengers' gear he realizes how far behind he's fallen.

It's the one thing he _can_ do, the one way he can still _help,_ and he's not even doing a very good job of it. Sure, it's not like anyone has started bugging him about it yet, they probably don't even _know_ about most of the things he's working on for them, but that's not the point. They shouldn't _have_ to wait on him, he has _one job_ on the team and it's to make sure they have everything they need.

It's just that every time Tony opens the list of Avengers-related projects, he's reminded that it's _not enough._ It's not nearly enough to deal with what he _knows_ is coming, the fleet of ships he saw in that goddam wormhole, the army he sees in all of his dreams. Tony's last attempt to do something about it had backfired in the form of almost dropping a _fucking city_ out of the sky. Now he's _alone_ and no one trusts him enough to just _listen,_ and he's not going to be able to do a damn thing.

Sure, he can build new gear and program new training simulations, he can try to tell himself that at least he knows Rhodey is out there in his place, but it's _not enough._

Tony hasn't even called them recently to make sure they don't need anything that he's forgetting, how the compound is working out, and sure he _could_ do it now, but Saturday night is usually team-bonding night these days, from what he hears, and he doesn't want to interrupt that. They'd probably let him know if they needed anything anyways.

He stays in the lab until he can barely keep his eyes open, forces himself to stay focused and _doesn't_ give into the urge to check the security footage of the compound, just to make sure everything is okay (just to see how happy they are _without_ him). Eventually he has to call it a night, can't afford to make any mistakes, and the only thing that has him actually heading for the elevator is the knowledge that his back is going to _kill_ while he tries to paint tomorrow if he spends one more night on the lumpy old workshop couch.

The elevator ride up to the penthouse is short, but Tony still leans heavily against the wall and then shuffles to the bedroom without bothering to have FRIDAY turn on any of the lights, collapsing straight into bed despite the fact that he's grimy and grease covered from spending the past day and a half in the workshop. He'll have to wake up extra early to shower before he leaves to pick Bucky up in the morning, but Tony doesn't imagine that'll be much of a problem.

He'll be lucky if he gets any sleep at all.

* * *

Sure enough, Tony spends most of the night tossing and turning, slipping in and out of nightmares.

He dreams about cities falling out of the sky and crushing him into the ocean, forcing him deeper under the surface until water surrounds him and he can't _breathe._ Even when Tony snaps awake he _still can't breathe,_ lungs seizing up as his heart pounds in his chest hard enough that he'd swear he can feel it pressing against the arc reactor, painful and terrifying.

Between one wheezing breath and the next he must fall back asleep because once again the fleet of spaceships is laid out before his eyes and Steve's voice is echoing in his head, weak and accusatory and _dying,_ reminding Tony that he could have done _more._ The whole of space stretches out around him, cold and empty and endless and the suit is dead and heavy around him, pulling him down.

Tony falls back through the portal and it's not right, the sky above him is ashen and gray, the buildings nothing but steel frames and crumbling concrete as they rise up quickly to meet him. There's no one there to catch him and he hits the ground hard, knocking what little breath he has out of his lungs. The portal doesn't close behind him, and the army passes right through, more ships than he can count, it's too late, and Tony gasps weakly, chest tight and vision swimming as the water rushes in over him again.

He wakes up drenched in sweat, twisted up in the blankets and shaking with it. He can't breathe, he _still can't breathe,_ and Tony struggles against the tangle of sheets with a pitiful whine.

His thundering heartbeat is loud in his ears, nearly drowning out FRIDAY's voice as she tries to tell him the time and date and where he is. It doesnt matter anyways, Tony knows where he is, he knows he's awake, and that's the _fucking problem._

Being awake isn't helpful because it's _still going to happen,_ the threat is still coming and there's not a damn thing he can do. He finally manages to free himself from the blankets and stumbles out of bed with a choked sob.

Every breath rattles in his chest and he can still feel every thud of his heart as it rattles through him, shivering even in the warm room and none of that is as bad as the nightmares he can feel still trying to creep up on him again, lingering in the back of his mind.

Tony stumbles to the bathroom almost blindly as black spots dance in his vision, stars and fire lingering in the growing darkness, threatening to swallow him again, and he needs to _wake up._

He makes it to the shower and turns the knob just enough to get a hard spray of cold water right to the face. It snaps him fully awake and the startled gasp that he drags in is at least a _little_ air getting into his lungs.

With another shuddering sob he slumps sideways against the cold tile wall so that at least the water isn’t running _directly_ in his face and slowly manages to get enough breath to clear the dark spots from his vision.

Fully awake or not, he can’t get the lingering taste of saltwater and ash and _blood_ out of his mouth, he still can’t hear anything past his own pulse and the lingering echoes of screams. He’s cold, he’s so fucking cold, shivering so hard that his teeth chatter, but he has to stay awake.

So he stands under the cold water until his skin starts to prune, drags in shaking gasps of air and tells himself his face is wet because of the spray from the shower.

Eventually his body temperature must drop too low, because FRIDAY pointedly turns the water temperature up a little, and Tony huffs out a rough laugh. At least he has the people he made watching out for him.

He does take it as a cue to actually scrub himself clean and finally get out of the shower. He towels himself out roughly and avoids his own eye in the mirror as he heads for the closet.

It’s not like he needs to worry about his hair, he’s going to spend the day _painting,_ by _hand,_ and with that in mind Tony pulls on some of his most comfortable workshop clothes, worn soft and already stained. Because it’s not like it matters what he looks like and Tony wishes that made him feel better, instead of making him feel incredibly vulnerable.

He doesn’t exactly have a mask suitable for hand-painting a room.

At least the clothes are soft, and after a second Tony pulls on an old MIT hoodie as well. Rhodey is never getting it back, and maybe if Tony covers it in paint he’ll stop asking. And Tony could really use the extra comfort right now, zipping the jacket all the way up as he shuffles out into the main room of the penthouse.

He’s not going back to bed, he _can’t,_ he can’t see that again. It’s only an hour or two before he was planning on getting up anyways, he’ll just chug a couple cups of coffee before he goes and everything will be _fine._

At least he’s going to see Bucky in a couple hours, and Tony might be a little terrified of how at ease he feels when Bucky is around, but right now he’s looking forward to it too much to care.

Just a couple more hours.

* * *

Tony pulls up in front of Bucky’s building a little early, and once again Bucky is already waiting with another container of cookies and a wide smile. Tony even manages a small smile at the sight of Bucky’s outfit, flannel over worn jeans to match his hipster bun. For a split second Tony considers pointing it out, but even with all the caffeine he’s had since he woke up, he’s just not sure he has the energy.

Bucky spots him immediately this time, grinning and waving as he walks to the car and climbs into the passenger seat again. He looks entirely too bright and chipper for seven o'clock in the morning, but Tony isn't actually going to complain about it at all because Bucky's bright smile has the knot of tension that's been wound up tight in his chest since he woke up _finally_ starts to loosen.

“Hey baby,” Bucky says warmly and barely even pauses before leaning across the car to press a light kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“Hey,” Tony says back as he feels his cheeks flush, and he misses Bucky's warmth as soon as he leans away. Tony does his best to smile back, but it feels fragile and shaky on his face and apparently Bucky isn't buying it because his stormy eyes fill with concern as he studies Tony's face.

“You ok darlin?” Bucky asks softly and lifts one hard to brush his fingers along Tony’s cheek, heartbreakingly gentle. “Sleep ok?”

Tony shrugs weakly, torn between the urge to lean into the touch and the need to flinch away from it, because he doesn't know how to _handle_ gentleness like this right now, not without the very serious risk of completely falling apart. But _fuck,_ he _wants_ it, wants to be able to pretend for a second that someone actually _really cares,_ so all he does is drop his eyes and swallow thickly.

“I had nightmares last night," he admits, and then bites his lip as he firmly reminds himself that _people don't want to hear about your stupid rich boy problems,Tony._ So he quickly looks up at Bucky again and forces another smile onto his face as he lightly adds "No big deal, it happens.”

“I’m sorry baby that sucks,” Bucky says, warm and genuine, and his encouraging smile goes a little sad when Tony fails to hide his surprise at that response.

Especially because Bucky is probably the _last_ person Tony should be complaining about nightmares to. He doesn't even want to _imagine_ the kind of nightmares Bucky must live with, and Tony has to resist the urge to hunch in on himself as guilt curls in his stomach.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned in all my years, it’s that our brains don’t often do the things we want them to,” Bucky says softly, a wry little twist to his lips and now Tony feels _worse_ for complaining, even as he clings to every word, “Speaking as someone who has a lot of blank spots in his memories and a whole lot of spots that I’d rather forget, sometimes you just gotta say this shit sucks and let someone hug you.” With that Bucky shifts in his seat, smiling as he spreads his arms wide in an obvious offer and asks “How bout it baby?”

Tony tries to hold out, he really does, because he's supposed to be _stronger_ than this, but in what feels like no time at all he cracks and practically throws himself across the center console. He manages to get his arms wrapped around Bucky even in the awkward tight space of the car, and he can't completely bite back a weak sound as he presses his face into the curve of Bucky’s neck.

“There you go baby, I got you,” Bucky whispers into Tony’s hair, strong arms wrapping around Tony and pulling him in tight while Tony just tries to choke down the stupid sob trying to build in his chest.

“Thank you,” Tony says thickly and he barely manages to get the words out around the lump of emotion caught in his throat. Bucky's hipster-flannel is admittedly really soft, and Tony tightens his grip on it as he drags in what feels like the first full breath he's taken since he woke up.

Bucky just hums soothingly, gently stroking his back, and Tony continues clinging to him until someone honks, obviously impatient at having to wait so long to take Tony's place at the curb. Tony drops back into his own seat with a soft huff and then flips off the car idling behind them as he pulls out onto the street again.

They both laugh, a little shaky, and something in Tony’s chest loosens as he looks over at Bucky with a small smile that feels real for the first time today.

Tony grabs for the rugelach eagerly when Bucky offers him some more, and it’s only once he has a mouthful of food that he remembers to point out the coffee he’d brought for Bucky. He chews on his cookie happily and watches as Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, watching for the way Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise before he grins widely.

“Thank you doll,” Bucky says as he leans over to press another soft kiss to Tony’s cheek. Tony flushes as pride swells in his chest that he’d remembered correctly, and he knows he should probably object to the pet name, because he is in fact a fully grown adult, but he just... _likes_ it. He likes the way Bucky says it, all Brooklyn drawl and full of affection.

“So uh, what did you get up to yesterday?” Tony asks once he finishes his mouthful of baked goods, his grip tight on the wheel and almost desperate for the continued distraction, for _something_ to think about other than the shadows haunting him. He’s never good with awkward silences, but he _really_ doesn’t think he could deal with one right now.

“I played video games with my new friend George,” Bucky replies, and the obvious pride in his voice is unfairly adorable, “Have you ever played Legend of Zelda?”

“Oh my god, I haven’t played in so long,” Tony says with a laugh and then grins over at Bucky as he admits “It’s been years since I just sat and played games all day.”

“You should come next time,” Bucky offers, and before Tony can stop himself he's looking over at Bucky again, his surprise and incredulousness no doubt showing on his face. “What?" Bucky asks with a shrug, "Seriously. George is a nice guy, if a little shy, and he’s someone that respects people’s privacy, he's not the type to sell you out to the gossip rags.”

His attempts to reassure Tony are cute, and sure that is Tony's first concern, but it's closely followed by the knowledge that it would almost _definitely_ go poorly. Tony knows how it works, people don't tend to stay star-struck for very long when faced with the actual reality of _Tony,_ and then the draw of that gossip rag money is a lot more appealing.

But Tony doesn't want to insult Bucky's new friend by pointing out that you never really know what people will do until they're in that situation, that Tony has already been wrong more times than he cares to count, so instead he just forces a bland smile onto his face as he lightly says “Maybe, though most people don’t really want to be friends with me when they get to know me.”

 _“I_ know you and I still wanna be your friend,” Bucky insists, and when Tony glances over at him again, breath catching, Bucky just smiles softly. “Eyes on the road doll,” Bucky teases, tipping his head toward the windshield, and Tony quickly turns his head, swallowing thickly.

Tony's mouth works uselessly for a second, but he has no idea how to respond to that. Bucky is pretty smart, he should know better by now and yet here he is, smiling as they drive out to Tony's cabin to _paint._ And as much as Tony tries to deny it to himself it _is_ kind of a big step, when he first signed up for the matching service he really would have blanched at the idea of being out in the middle of nowhere with a strange dom, but he hadn't even thought about that before suggesting it. He jumps a little when Bucky's hand lands on his thigh, huge and incredibly gente as he squeezes slightly, and Tony's next breath is a little steadier.

“But no pressure darlin," Bucky says softly, his thumb stroking over the seam on the outside of Tony's thigh, "You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna, _ever._ Not with me.”

All Tony can do is nod, chest tight because he _especially_ doesn't know how to respond to _that_ and he doesn't want to blurt out some pathetic plea to know if it's _really true._ So he doesn't say anything at all, just focuses on breathing steadily as he navigates them onto the highway and slowly relaxes under Bucky's hand.

Bucky doesn't say anything else, and when Tony glances over he's just smiling into his coffee before perking up a little and politely asking “Hey JARVIS, can you play some music for me?”

“Of course Bucky," JARVIS replies, equally polite, and Tony can’t help a soft huff of fond laughter because he is a _sucker_ for people treating his AIs nicely, "What would you like to hear?”

Tony doesn't miss the way Bucky’s gaze drifts over to him for just a second before he smiles a little wider and asks “Can you play my _Feeling Soft_ playlist?”

The song that starts playing is soft, echoing vocals over quiet music, and Tony is surprised by the grin that takes over his face, warmth flooding his chest. “Hipster,” he accuses as he shoots a teasing look at Bucky, “I’ve never even _heard_ of this song.”

“That's just fine sweet thing,” Bucky says playfully as he gives Tony’s thigh a condescending pat, “I’ll teach you all about good music.”

“How very _dare!”_ Tony gasps dramatically, and if he wasn't driving he’d be clutching at his heart to show exactly how _wounded_ he is, “I am an _expert_ on good music! J, play Back in Black.”

Bucky laughs loudly enough to be heard over the opening strands of the song, even with the way JARVIS has cranked the volume way up without being asked. Tony smiles wider, helpless to do something else, and with every mile further from the city they drive his problems feel a little further away, a little easier to ignore as long as he has Bucky grinning back at him.

* * *

Once actually faced with the blank walls and cans of paint Tony can’t help pouting a little because seriously, painting is _boring,_ he has _machines_ for this.

Taping off the doorframe and baseboards is especially boring, but at least once they’re done with that Bucky gives into his demands that they pause for more coffee before they actually start on the painting.

“C’mon darlin,” Bucky says, grinning at Tony over his shoulder as he steps up to one of the walls, his roller covered in gold paint, “First one done gets to choose our next scene.”

“You’re on,” Tony replies quickly, because he can’t turn down a challenge like that, and quickly turns to dunk his own roller in paint.

Once they start it’s easy to fall into the motions, and Tony finds that there’s something strangely soothing about making sure the paint on his walls is nice and smooth, no bubbles or drips. It also helps that they spend the entire time laughing and teasing, trying to distract each other and having JARVIS wildly change the music every couple songs.

When Bucky says they should pause for lunch so he can have his promised drone-pizza Tony is surprised to find that it’s past noon, and he happily leads the way downstairs to see if they have anything _other_ than water and coffee to drink with their lunch.

Bucky manages to dig up a couple beers from _somewhere_ while Tony is ordering the food, and Tony makes a mental note to tip the caretakers extra well this month, because he’s pretty sure they’re the rightful owners of the beer he is absolutely going to drink. The look of delight on Bucky’s face when their food really is delivered by drone is pretty priceless and Tony only teases him a little, mostly just excited that he doesn’t even need to use his defense that the drone is _way_ faster than waiting for someone to _drive_ the pizza all the way out here.

They settle in at the small kitchen island to eat, close enough that their shoulders brush lightly as Tony hands over Bucky’s pizza and says “This doesn’t mean you win, Jarvis is using the air filtration system to force dry the paint so we can get in another coat before we start building anything and I’m _going_ to win.”

Bucky just grins at him as he eagerly grabs a slice of pizza and shoves it into his mouth, and if he's trying to distract Tony with that low, happy groan well it's only working _a little._ “Course you will darlin, you go on and kick my ass,” Bucky says, tone incredibly conciliatory even around his mouthful of food.

Tony narrows his eyes at Bucky, because he _will_ damnit, even if he did make the mistake of claiming the gold wall for himself because the stopping to switch colors has been kind of slowing him down. Instead of replying he just takes a pointed sip of his beer and a bite of his pizza, glaring harder when Bucky grins wider.

Once Bucky finishes his entire pizza and Tony eats an impressive amount of his own they get back to painting, and if Tony rushes a little around the baseboards well it's his room anyways. The important part is that Tony _wins,_ and he crows victoriously as Bucky finishes up his own wall.

"Told you I'd be the victor," Tony says smugly, and then laughs when Bucky turns to inspect his handy work with an obvious pout. He pokes Bucky in the chest with his paintbrush, partially just to rub in that he _won_ and partially to distract Bucky from his rushed handiwork. Bucky glances down at the red paint smeared across his chest, and Tony grins wider when Bucky looks up at him again.

“Oh it’s like that, huh?” Bucky asks with a toothy grin and Tony's stomach gives a little twist at the heated tone of his voice, the way Bucky's blue eyes go a little darker. He reaches out, quicker than Tony can quite follow, and brushes his fingers over Tony’s cheek, no doubt leaving a smear of paint in his wake. Tony gives him his best offended look, fights down another grin when Bucky just laughs softly, and then lunges forward only to huff when Bucky easily ducks back out of his reach.

“Dammit, come _here,”_ Tony demands with a laugh as he lunges again, chasing Bucky around the small room with a paintbrush and a wide grin. He manages to leave another wide stripe of paint along the skin of Bucky’s right forearm and across his jeans before Bucky smoothly dances away again, and Tony has just enough time to cheer before letting out a soft _'eep'_ as Bucky raises his own brush again. He whirls around to run himself, laughing wildly and squawking as Bucky flicks paint at him in return.

Bucky finally snags Tony’s arm, using Tony's own momentum against him to spin him in close, and Tony gasps at the feeling of Bucky’s chest pressing huge and warm against his back. Tony arches into the contact, his entire body flushing hot at the memory of Bucky pulling him in and kissing him just like this, and before he can get too caught up in it Tony hooks one foot behind Bucky's ankle and _pulls,_ twisting his weight at the same time.

Their paintbrushes go clattering to the ground, and Tony has just enough time to be glad Bucky talked him into taking the time to lay out the plastic sheeting before they're both tumbling to the ground amid more laughter. Tony barely avoids kneeing Bucky in the groin, only headbutts him in the chin a _little,_ and finally settles sprawled across Bucky's chest, straddling Bucky’s hips as Bucky's hands settle easily on his ass.

He braces his own hands on Bucky’s solid chest and pushes himself up enough to grin down at Bucky, and as soon as he catches his breath Tony is going to point out that Bucky is _definitely_ covered in more paint than he is, and that means Tony _extra_ _wins._ Before he gets a chance though Bucky's grin goes a little sharper as he gives Tony's ass a firm squeeze and Tony can't help rocking back into it slightly, his lingering laughter turning into a strangled moan in his throat and heat spreading from his gut though his whole body like a wildfire.

“So you won baby," Bucky says, low and heated, fingers shifting over Tony's ass through his jeans and grinning a little wider as he asks "What’s your prize gonna be?”

Tony has to swallow thickly before he can speak, dragging in another ragged breath before he blurts “Wax play, I want to try that.” His stomach does another flip as Bucky nods eagerly, squeezing at his ass again and forcing another choked noise out of Tony's chest.

“Sounds good darlin,” Bucky says easily, and then his expression goes a little thoughtful. “We should test your pain tolerance tonight to see what you can handle before we move forward. Don’t want you to have to wax all your body hair off if you don’t have to,” he adds with an apologetic smile, and Tony wrinkles his nose a little at that thought.

It's not like that's going to stop him though, Tony already bought the damn candles after all, why bother denying even to himself that the thought has been stuck in his head all weekend. So Tony just nods absently and waves one hand in the vague direction of the boxes in the hallway, not bothering to tear his eyes away from Bucky's face, and his _lips,_ as he says “There’s a bunch of candles out there, we can test it out later.”

“Later, huh doll?" Bucky asks with a knowing smirk, and the darkening of his eyes totally ruins his attempts to sound innocent as he asks "What do you want to do right now then?”

Tony feels that stupid, telling heat rising in his cheeks again, but he tightens his grip on Bucky’s shirt because _damnit_ the memory of the way Bucky kissed him has been the only thing keeping him sane and he just... he wants _more._ “I want you to kiss me like you did before,” he admits in a shaking whisper and leans in until he can feel Bucky's breath against his lips, _so close,_ and Tony _knows_ that he's being demanding, but he can't help breathing out _“Please_ sir.”

“Anything for you doll,” Bucky whispers back without hesitation, painfully earnest, and Tony barely registers Bucky's metal fingers sliding into his hair before Bucky is tightening his hold, tugging him close and echoing Tony's moan with a low groan of his own.

Sinking into the kiss is so easy, the soft slide of Bucky’s lips against his clearing every other thought from Tony’s mind until all he can focus on is melting down into the solid muscle of Bucky beneath him. He absently drags his palms up Bucky’s chest to bury his fingers in Bucky’s hair, heedless of the paint that’s somehow gotten into it in favor of pulling him _closer._ Bucky groans again, arching up against him, and Tony gasps into the kiss at the feeling of Bucky’s cock throbbing against him.

Tony grinds down against him, panting and shaking at the sound of Bucky’s moan, heart racing and carrying molten heat through his veins. He sucks Bucky’s lower lip into his mouth and then whines around it as Bucky slides the hand not buried in Tony’s hair beneath the loose waistband of Tony’s worn jeans, calloused fingers digging into his ass.

“God baby, I can’t wait to get my mouth on your pretty hole again,” Bucky groans between dropping short pecks to Tony’s lips, grip tightening on Tony’s hair as he squeezes and tugs at the muscle of Tony’s ass, “Wanna mark you up some more.”

“Fuck, _Bucky,”_ Tony gasps, stomach twisting almost painfully because _god_ he wants that, wants the lingering ache that always brings him right back here, makes him feel _wanted._

He shifts his weight enough to grind down against Bucky harder, moaning and chasing the heated and quickly swelling line of Bucky’s cock against him, head tossed back as he gasps for air. Bucky’s lips shift to his neck, perfectly sharp flashes of teeth and suction, and Tony barely has enough brain power to remember why that’s a _bad_ idea, even if it does make his heart sink a little.

“No marks, sir, _please_ ,” Tony whines, and then lets out a tiny relieved sigh as Bucky’s lips instantly gentle against his skin, shaking as Bucky breathes out a soft apology.

Tony sighs and moans as Bucky places a line of soft kisses down his throat, then gasps as Bucky abruptly rolls them over. Bucky’s hand on the back of his head gently cups it protectively instead, making sure Tony’s head doesn’t knock against the ground as Bucky pins him down and kisses him _hard,_ flicking his tongue over Tony’s lower lip and then following it with a hint of teeth. Tony moans desperately and arches up against the solid, inescapable yet _safe_ weight of Bucky over him, full-body shuddering and letting out another pitiful whine as Bucky’s hips settle against his, spreading Tony’s thighs _so wide_ around his thick bulk.

He’s left panting when Bucky shifts to drag kisses down his throat again, lips tingling and head spinning. Bucky slides a hand under Tony’s shirt, bites at his collar bone, does everything he can to turn Tony into a fuzzy, needy mess, and then pulls away again. Tony whines shamelessly, sluggishly lifts his head and forces his eyes open to pout at Bucky and then flushes when Bucky just laughs warmly.

“S’alright baby, just relax,” Bucky says soothingly and then shifts a little more, hot breath rushing over Tony’s bared stomach and making the muscles jump before he presses a soft kiss to the edge of Tony’s hip bone.

Tony gasps as his gut gives a heated twist, struggling to keep his head up so he can watch Bucky’s red, slick lips press against his skin. When Bucky flicks his tongue over the same spot, sucking lightly, Tony whines again, hips twitching with the effort of not arching into the contact.

“Can I leave a mark here?” Bucky asks softly, dark eyes shifting up to meet Tony’s, expression hungry and intent. Tony nods eagerly, moaning as he loses the struggle to hold himself still and his hips rock up against empty air.

Bucky smiles and Tony gets only a flash of the toothy, _predatory_ curl to it before Bucky leans down again and sinks his teeth into Tony’s hip, just hard enough to send a jolt through Tony’s entire body and drag a loud moan out of his chest.

“Mmm baby, you sound so _sweet_ ,” Bucky breathes as he drags his tongue over the indents left by his teeth, “Always so _good_ for me. If anyone heard you they’d be damn jealous.”

“Sir!” Tony gasps as his entire body shakes, the heat winding through him almost overwhelming. He’s not sure when his hands fell away from Bucky’s hair, but they must have because he’s scrambling uselessly at the sheeting beneath him as he arches his hips up again.

“Yea that’s right doll, lemme hear you,” Bucky growls encouragingly, shoving Tony’s shirt up a little higher and shifting to nip at his belly button.

Tony flinches a little, laughing breathily and finally getting his hands under control enough to weakly shove Bucky’s head away as he breathlessly scolds “Not sexy.”

Bucky looks up at him, laughing as well, carefree and _so goddamn gorgeous_ that Tony’s breath catches in his chest. Bucky surges up to kiss him again, a little sloppy as they both continue laughing, and Tony clings to him eagerly, fingers of one hand tangling in Bucky’s hair again while the other lands on Bucky’s ass to reel him in closer.

It takes no time at all for Tony to lose himself in the kiss again, melting into the ground and moaning softly with every press of Bucky’s lips. Every drag and catch of Bucky’s beard against his own makes his skin tingle, starts a slow burn that spreads through his entire body and jumps higher as Bucky grinds down against him.

Tony would probably be embarrassed by the desperate moans and whines that slip out of him if his head wasn’t slowly filling with fuzz and static, if he could care about anything but the low rumble of Bucky’s groans, the loud thump of his own heartbeat in his ears and the hard line of Bucky’s cock pressing against his own. He barely even notices when Bucky pulls away enough to press his forehead to Tony’s, too busy panting for breath around soft moans, still rolling his hips up weakly against Bucky’s.

“Fuck doll, your _mouth,”_ Bucky whispers, voice rough and still pressed close enough that Tony can feel the rumble of the words in his chest as he groans “You look like a well used whore.”

A hard shudder runs through Tony at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers tracing over his tingling lips, calloused but _so gentle,_ and when Tony forces his eyes open his breath catches at the expression on Bucky’s face, flushed and wanting and also something like _awed._ It requires no thought to tilt his head a little, letting his mouth fall open, and Tony’s gut gives a hard twist of arousal as Bucky’s fingers slide easily between his lips.

“ _Fuck,”_ Bucky growls as Tony sucks on his fingers, moaning around them at the feeling of Bucky’s cock twitching against him. Bucky lets out a soft, rough laugh and his eyes darken further as he says “You ain’t helpin me calm down any baby.”

It doesn’t sound like Bucky is complaining though, and he doesn’t pull his fingers free, so Tony just drags his tongue up the length of Bucky’s fingers, flicks his tongue over the tips, lost in the way Bucky watches him with rapt attention. Tony is about three seconds away from pointedly tugging at Bucky’s jeans, because there are way better things he could be doing with his mouth, when Bucky abruptly pulls his fingers free of Tony's wet lips and then kisses him, muffling Tony's whine of complaint.

The kiss is slow and sweet, melting away what little brainpower Tony has left and he barely even notices Bucky's palms sliding along his arms until he's gently tugging Tony's hands loose from their hold on Bucky's hair and ass. He instead pins Tony's wrists to the ground on either side of his head and kisses him deeper, mind-numbing and _consuming._ Tony doesn't even consider trying to fight it, just goes limp and lets the sweet drag of Bucky's lips against his drag him down, _down,_ sighing into it as Bucky's weight presses him down into the floor.

Bucky pulls away slowly, leaves Tony panting and floaty as he releases one of Tony’s hands to gently cup his cheek instead. Tony leans into it lazily, sighing breathlessly as Bucky kisses the corner of his mouth, nudges his nose against Tony's.

When Tony drags his eyes open, blinking stupidly as he tries to get his brain back online, he's greeted by the sight of Bucky's warm, wide smile. It makes his eyes shine, even if his pupils are still blown out a little with arousal, little smile lines standing out and his mouth and eyes and it's _really_ not helping with Tony's attempts to catch his breath.

“How you doin baby?” Bucky asks, low and intimate as he uses one thumb to smooth Tony’s messy hair off his forehead and Tony tips his head up a little to chase the contact, too warm and loose to stop himself from desperately soaking up every scrap of affection that he can get.

“Good,” Tony whispers, barely more than a sigh as he feels the no-doubt dopey smile on his face get even wider, “I’m good.”

Bucky laughs softly, leaning in a little closer so his lips brush Tony's cheek as he says “Yea you are darlin, you’re my good boy.” Tony can't stop the soft noise that rises in his chest at that, heat flooding his face as he turns to hide it in the curve of Bucky’s throat and drags in a shaky breath.

Tony has always kind of hated the way he reacts to being called _good,_ the way he goes all stupid and desperate for it, chest clenching and twisting. He still _loves_ the way Bucky says it, all warm and fond and _earnest,_ and Tony shudders hard as Bucky's fingers curve around his head again, pulling him close and pressing kisses into Tony’s hair.

“You like being my good boy, huh?” Bucky prods gently and Tony would pout if he couldn't _hear_ the smile in Bucky's voice, if the slightest possessive edge to the words _**'my** good boy' _didn't have a low whine rising in Tony's throat as he shudders again. So he just nods, wraps his arms around Bucky’s broad waist and clings to him as Bucky presses another kiss to his hairline and whispers “That’s good baby, cuz I love how good you are for me.”

Something that feels dangerously like a sob tries to build in Tony's chest, but he viciously shoves it down in favor of clinging to Bucky tighter and trying to get his breathing under control. A slight shift and tensing of Bucky's muscles is all the warning Tony gets before Bucky is rolling them back over, ending with Tony sprawled half on top of him again. This time though their legs wind up in a comfortable tangle, Tony's head pillowed on Bucky's thick chest while Bucky's wide palm runs soothingly up and down his back.

As the warm haze of arousal clears from his head Tony feels all the worry and anxiety creeping in to take its place again, no matter how hard he tries to fight it back. Because he is now _very sure_ that coming out to the cabin was a _terrible_ idea.

There's only so many times he can remind himself that this _isn't real,_ no matter how easy and comfortable it's turning out to be, no matter how sweet and thoughtful Bucky is.

 _Just an arrangement,_ Tony reminds himself firmly as he picks at a dry spot of paint on Bucky’s T-shirt, just a means to an end so they can both get rid of the withdrawal symptoms that are wreaking havoc on their lives. And Tony is going to be in serious trouble someday, probably soon, because he doesn't know how he's supposed to _not_ get attached, how he's supposed to _not_ get used to this.

Worst of all, he doesn't _want_ to not get attached, which is just, all kinds of stupid. Tony should _know_ better by now. He should know he doesn't get to _keep_ nice things, but it's getting harder and harder to keep that end in sight and to his immense embarrassment Tony finds himself blurting “Have you ever done this before?”

“What, had a sub?” Bucky replies, his fingers dragging through Tony’s hair and it's so tempting to just let it go, press up into Bucky's nails scratching over his scalp and ignore the question, try to hold onto his denial for as long as he can.

But he can't help thinking, maybe if Bucky scoffs and shoots him down, maybe Tony will be able to keep his stupid emotions from running crazy without any input from his brain. With that in mind Tony stubbornly forces himself to ask his next question, all the while hating how weak and hesitant his voice sounds as he stutters out “Yea but one you’re... I-I don’t know...”

Tony trails off and he's not even sure how he wants to finish that sentence, maybe _'stuck with'_ or _'making plans with'_ or hell maybe _'painting rooms with.'_ He knows he needs to say _something,_ because if Bucky is still hoping to get matched with someone better that's _fine,_ Tony totally gets it, he just needs to _know._ He needs to know how long he has to soak up as much of this feeling as he can.

“Serious with?” Bucky offers before Tony can work himself into _too much_ of a panic, and Tony lets out a tiny sigh of relief even as his heart gives a hard lurch in his chest.

“Is that what we are?" Tony asks carefully, his fingers finally stilling to lay flat over Bucky's stomach and he does his best to keep the pitifully hopeful note out of his voice as he repeats "Serious?”

He can feel Bucky's eyes on the side of his face, but Tony keeps his own gaze resolutely fixed on the far wall and the tiny spot of messy paint along the baseboard where Tony _definitely_ rushed it. He can't look up, he _can't,_ because the odds might be pretty low that Bucky is waiting to scoff in his face, or worse, look at him with _pity,_ but it's still not a chance Tony can take. Apparently Bucky gets tired of trying to wait him out because he rolls onto his side, taking Tony with him, and Tony's breath catches as they wind up face to face, still curled close together on the paint-splattered floor.

Bucky catches his hand before Tony can pull it away, smiling softly, and Tony forgets about breathing entirely. “Darlin, I haven’t had a connection like this with a sub in seventy some years," Bucky says as he laces their fingers together, his voice low and earnest, "I’m serious as a heart attack. We make each other feel better right?”

A weak nod is about all Tony can manage, eyes wide as he drags in a shuddering breath and his heart rate picks up almost painfully. There's something growing in his chest that feels dangerously like hope, because _fuck_ has he felt so much better, and it always makes something in his chest go all squirmy and warm to realize that he's helping Bucky too. Tony just wants to be able to _keep_ helping, wants to do everything he can to hold onto this.

“And you want to keep doing this with me?” Bucky asks, a twist to his lips that almost looks _nervous,_ and Tony doesn't even care if he comes off as over-eager as he nods quickly. Bucky smiles a little wider and says “Then I don’t see why it can’t be serious. I’m _seriously_ happy being your dom baby, what about you?”

Tony smiles, small but _real,_ and his heart jumps the way it always does at the thought that despite feeling like he's not really _doing_ anything most of the time, if he's making Bucky happy he must be doing _something_ right.

He clings a little tighter to Bucky's fingers tangled with his own and with Bucky watching him closely, steady and open, it's _surprisingly_ easy to breathe out “Yea, I'm happy too.”

Bucky pulls Tony's hand a little closer, placing soft kisses over his knuckles, and Tony's chest clenches a little tighter because he can _feel_ the hitch in Bucky's breath against his skin. He can feel the way Bucky's lips tremble slightly as he says “Then that’s all there is to it. Just you and me, doin what makes us happy.”

It sounds so simple, when Bucky puts it like that, and Tony is having a hard time remembering all the reasons that it's _really not,_ too busy staring stupidly while his brain tries to catch up. _'Serious,'_ that sounds way better than _'temporary arrangement,'_ less like Tony is going to go home every week wondering if their next scene is going to be the last, if he's going to suddenly find himself cold and alone and slowly going crazy again. It sounds like this is something he can actually let himself get used to, at least for a while.

A wide smile spreads across Tony's face and he gently tugs his hand away from Bucky's lips, leaning in to press his own lips to Bucky's instead. It's a little awkward, as far as kisses go, because Tony can't stop smiling, but he can feel the curve of Bucky’s answering smile against his own and it's _perfect._

Eventually Bucky pulls away and pushes himself to his feet with a soft groan, using the hold he still has on Tony's hand to help him up off the ground as well. “C’mon darlin we can’t laze about all day, still got work to do," Bucky says as he waves a hand towards the stack of boxes still waiting for them just outside the door.

Tony whines and pouts, does everything but stomp his foot, and he's about to jokingly point out that if they had paid someone to paint the room yesterday, they could have already dealt with all the hall boxes and they _would_ be able to laze around all day when Bucky's palm lands on his ass in a light smack. Tony's words turn into a soft, startled yelp and when he spins in place Bucky just grins at him, wide and shameless.

“Let’s go baby,” Bucky says in a voice that's low, _heated,_ and Tony gives a disjointed nod as he spins and scurries out the door. He can feel Bucky's eyes following him, and Tony keeps his chin ducked down in a futile attempt to hide the fact that his cheeks are _burning_ as a heated flush runs through him, echoing the shock of heat from the brief slap on his ass.

 _Later,_ Tony tells himself firmly, he can dwell on that _later._

He can't even find a distraction in ripping into the plethora of boxes because with each new item they unpack and assemble, massage table and more rope, a wide array of toys and a pegboard to store them on, the bright spark of arousal in his stomach threatens to flare back to life.

Tony has almost gotten himself under control and convinced himself to stop replaying every kiss over and over again in his mind, instead poking his head out into the hallway to make sure they're not forgetting everything, when the sound of a match being struck to life has his gut twisting with heat again. He spins to find Bucky holding one of the candles, wax just starting to melt around the burning wick, and Tony swallows hard as his heart gives a hard lurch of excitement.

He isn't sure how long he stands there, frozen to the spot as they both watch the candle burn, but when Bucky waves him over Tony nearly trips all over himself in his efforts to quickly cross the room. He watches with rapt attention as Bucky experimentally drips wax onto his own forearm, arousal squirming hot in Tony's gut at the sight of the red wax against Bucky's pale skin, the way Bucky's expression twitches slightly before relaxing as he looks up to meet Tony's eye.

“It’s not too bad, but let’s see what you think of it,” Bucky says, holding out his free hand in obvious offer. Tony hesitates for only a second before placing his wrist in Bucky's waiting grip, chest clenching a little because _fuck,_ what if he doesn't _like it?_ That'll be awkward, it was his idea in the first place, and apparently Tony isn't doing a very good job of hiding his nerves because Bucky smiles at him encouragingly and says “If you don’t like it we’ll do something else next week, whatever you want.”

Tony nodding jerkily, and then his breath catches as Bucky turns his arm over to expose the soft skin along the underside. Bucky holds the candle a fair distance above Tony's arm and then tilts it slowly, letting just three drops of wax fall. They land on Tony's skin one after the other in a neat little line and each one has Tony jolting slightly, sucking in a sharp hiss of breath at the shock of heat that quickly fades into an amazing, lingering warmth.

“How was that?” Bucky asks with a smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, like he can't _see_ Tony's cheeks flushing, the way he shifts his weight a little as his cock gives a hard twitch and his breathing goes quick and uneven.

“It’s _good,”_ Tony say with a grin of his own, a little surprised by just how much he means it. The wax has already cooled, but there's a warmth continuing to spread beneath Tony's skin, settling low in his gut, and he laughs softly as he admits “I really want to do it now.”

“That makes two of us,” Bucky says in a low voice and then smiles toothily when Tony looks up to meet his gaze, making Tony's breath hitch again.

He tries not to pout when Bucky blows out the candle and sets it aside, because apparently part of him had been hoping for _now_ now, but that's fine, Tony can be patient, probably.

So he just waits for Bucky to release his arm and wonders if he should pick at the now fully dried wax, or if there's a better way to get it off his skin. Tony's thoughts all come to a screeching halt when Bucky pulls his knife from his pocket, and Tony is left with a head full of static.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asks as he flips the blade open, quiet and serious, watching Tony carefully. “I won’t cut you, I promise,” he adds, still meeting Tony’s eyes directly and almost _overwhelmingly_ earnest, “I won’t hurt you. _Ever.”_

Tony swallows hard, heart pounding almost frantically in his chest and it’s only a tiny bit fear, not nearly as much as he probably would have expected. Because it’s not like the knife is actually a surprise, Tony had noticed Bucky using it to cut into some of the more thoroughly taped boxes, Tony had in fact done his best _not_ to let himself focus on the easy confidence with which Bucky had flicked it open and closed, flipped it around in his wide palm.

Now it’s _all_ Tony can think about though, and he’s always known he has a big thing for competency but this feels like taking it to an all new level. There’s no denying that his blood is surging hot with arousal though, not even to himself, and Tony’s gaze flicks back and forth between the blade and Bucky’s face while Bucky continues to watch him patiently, not moving at all while he waits for Tony’s answer.

Finally Tony fixes his eyes on Bucky again and nods, pulse loud in his ears and his hum of agreement coming out soft and weak around where his heart is lodged in his throat. Bucky moves slowly, which Tony appreciates, carefully scrapes the little circles of wax from Tony’s skin with the flat of the blade while Tony watches him with wide eyes and tries to remember how to _breathe._

Once Tony’s skin is clean and tingling in the wake of the cool metal Bucky wipes the blade clean with the pad of his thumb, tucking it smoothly away, and even that motion has Tony’s stomach jumping and twisting.

Bucky lifts Tony’s arm to press a kiss to the slightly pink spot on Tony’s forearm, eyes dark as he no doubt watches the blush on Tony’s cheeks spread down his neck, and then smiles as he releases Tony’s wrist and says “Good as new.”

Tony has been surprised by plenty of things, since he started this with Bucky, but he has to admit that this is the _most_ surprising. _Knives,_ what the fuck. Tony never would have expected to find that hot, never has before and _especially_ wouldn’t have expected it these days, but there is definitely something about the easy confidence and _care_ Bucky uses to handle the knife that is giving him _ideas._

He’s not sure if he should find it reassuring that he’s pretty sure this little revelation is entirely _Bucky_ reliant, and as they begin gathering up the painting gear and breaking down empty boxes Tony promises himself that he’ll think about it later. _Later._

After they get all the cardboard bundled up to be recycled Tony pauses in the doorway for a second as Bucky starts down the stairs, glancing back around. It’s barely recognizable as the same room that sat empty and plain for so long, now brightly colored and warm, and Tony's smile is only a little melancholy.

All his other plans for the cabin might have fallen through, hell his plans for his _life_ have fallen through, but at least now Tony has _this,_ however unexpected it might be. Something to look forward to, _someone_ he can look forward to, at least for now, and it's so much more than he expected that Tony has to swallow down a heady swell of emotion as he turns to follow Bucky downstairs.

Bucky grabs them a couple bottles of water and they settle in at the island to split the cold remains of Tony’s pizza, conversation quiet as the night without sleep starts to catch up with Tony. The occasional silences are comfortable though, which is both a pleasant surprise and a relief because Tony doesn't have the energy to think up stupid shit to say to fill the quiet.

Tony's eyelids feel a little heavy as they walk back to the car to head home, his steps a little sluggish as he debates having JARVIS find him a coffee place on the way back to the city, or if he should just wait until he gets home. He's just decided that he'll wait, his favorite coffee is at home anyways and if he blares loud music the whole drive again that'll keep him awake just fine, when Bucky catches his elbow, pulling him to a stop and out of his thoughts.

“Would you mind too awful much if I drove?" Bucky asks with a small, hopeful smile, "It’s such a gorgeous car and I’d love to get my hands on her. ”

It takes a second for Tony to actually process the question, distracted by the warmth of Bucky's fingers against his skin and the almost silver-blue of his eyes in the late evening sunlight, but once his brain finishes sorting through the words Tony nods eagerly.

“Just don’t get stopped by the police," he advises seriously as he hands over the keys, honestly thrilled at the prospect of not having to make the dive himself, "She can do 200 easy, so don’t get caught.”

It makes Bucky laugh, soft and delighted, and Tony smiles widely at the sound of it as he changes direction to head to the other side of the car instead. He drops into the passenger seat while Bucky adjusts the mirrors and gets himself settled, and Tony can't help wrinkling his nose slightly at how weird it feels to be on this side of his own car. They both turn on their seat heaters at the same time, and Tony huffs out a soft laugh as he sinks back into his seat, doesn't even protest when Bucky has JARVIS put on his _'soft'_ playlist again.

They talk a little, mostly just Tony needlessly directing Bucky back to the main road and then laughing when Bucky asks which of the many buttons on the dash will take them into warp speed, but most of Tony’s attention is on the exhaustion steadily creeping up on him, the uncomfortable awareness that he's probably going to pass out as soon as he gets home.

Falling asleep is the _last_ thing he wants to do, because he just _knows_ that all those nightmares he's been successfully ignoring all day are going to come rushing right back. Hell, Tony can already feel the guilt creeping up over the fact that he spent all day goofing around instead of _working_ when there are always a million and one things he’s behind on, when he could have been actually _accomplishing something._

Ignoring everything was fun, for a while, but now Tony has to go back to real life and probably spend a couple more days barely sleeping, until he feels like he’s made up for the time off that he doesn’t deserve.

“You’re awfully far away darlin,” Bucky says softly, and when Tony drags his eyes away from staring blankly out the window he finds that Bucky is shooting him concerned glances. Tony looks away again, curling in himself a little because fuck, he’d thought he could _avoid_ getting his sleepless moodiness all over the place after his brief little hiccup this morning.

Tony doesn’t even realize that he’s tapping nervously at the metal casing of the arc reactor through his shirt until Bucky reaches out to gently grab his hand, stilling his fingers, and Tony winces a little. Dammit he _knew_ if he didn’t break himself of that habit he’d end up doing it in front of someone else eventually.

He’s about to apologize, he has to assume that with Bucky’s enhanced hearing that was probably _super annoying,_ but before Tony can get the words out Bucky pulls his hand across the car to plant a kiss in the center of his palm and Tony’s words all dry up in his throat.

Bucky doesn’t stop there either, gaze still fixed innocently on the road as he places a soft kiss on each of Tony’s fingers even as they twitch in surprise, and Tony quickly turns to stare out the windshield himself so hopefully Bucky won’t notice the way his cheeks flood with heat.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Bucky offers as he laces their fingers together and turns Tony’s hand over to kiss his knuckles as well. “You don’t have to, but I want to hear it if you want to tell it,” Bucky adds softly and finally lowers their joined hands to rest on top of his thick thigh, thumb running along the side of Tony’s hand in a slow, gentle motion. He doesn’t say anything else, like he really would be perfectly happy to just let Tony hold his hand and not explain himself at all.

It has emotion swelling thick in Tony’s chest, taking up what little room wasn’t already filled with building worry and tension, and his next breath comes out ragged and almost painful. He bites his lip and shifts a little in his seat, telling himself that he’s not going to throw himself a pity party, he’s _not,_ but before Tony can stop himself the words are spilling out of him.

“I’ve had nightmares the past few days,” Tony blurts, even as he tells himself to _stop,_ “The standard stuff really; the humvee attack, the cave, Yinsen, Obadiah.” He has to pause to drag in another shaking gulp of air, then he shrugs weakly and sinks his teeth into his lips until it _aches_ because that’s _enough._ That’s more than enough, Tony doesn’t need to run through the whole list, and honestly those nightmares are so familiar they’re basically routine.

At least he can think about them without completely breaking down.

Bucky doesn’t launch into a million questions though, or worse, empty assurances that it’ll get _better_ eventually, just gives Tony’s hand a comforting squeeze and gently asks “I’m sorry baby, you gettin _any_ sleep?”

Tony shrugs again, eyes fixed unseeing on the road ahead of them as he does his best to smirk and make his voice flippant as he says “I’ve been running on caffeine and naps for years now, it barely makes a difference if I’m not getting those extra couple of hours.”

He’s really expecting Bucky to call him out for being a sleep deprived mess, which he definitely _is,_ it would only be fair, but instead Bucky just hums thoughtfully and says “I’m really sorry baby, I wish I could make it better for you.”

“You do,” Tony says immediately, doesn’t even pause to think about it because apparently the only thing worse than making a fool of himself is Bucky _not knowing that._ He twists a little more in his seat so he can stare out the window instead in an attempt to hide his deepening blush, careful not to dislodge his hand from Bucky's hold in the process.

“Yea?” Bucky asks softly, something like surprise in his voice and his thumb pauses in the act of stroking over the side of Tony's hand. Tony can feel Bucky's eyes on the side of his face, curious and searching, so Tony swallows hard and takes a deep breath before nodding as he turns away from the window.

“They haven’t been as bad lately," Tony admits haltingly, his fingers twitching nervously against the back of Bucky's hand, "The... the scenes with you, they’ve helped some of the side effects of withdrawal.”

He shrugs and does his best to smile as he forces himself to look over at Bucky again, trying to convey that he's _fine,_ he's totally fine. Tony mentally screams at himself to stop, to just _leave it there,_ he doesn't need to say anything else that's _plenty,_ but no amount of mental berating stops the words from spilling out.

“Problem is, my brain is still a fucking mess even with it getting better," Tony chokes out, clutching tighter to Buck's hand as his chest gives a painful twist, fear and guilt crawling bitter up the back of his throat and he _can't stop._ "I see all the people I couldn’t save— I see Sokovia falling out of the sky and I’m not fast enough, not _good_ enough to stop it. I see the world covered in ashes and blood, conquered by a demon from space, my friends broken and dead at his feet—” Tony finally manages to cut himself off with a shaking gasp, lifting his free hand to scrub at his wet eyes and his voice is a rough, broken whisper as he can't help finishing with “It’s coming and I can’t stop it.”

Tony barely even registers Bucky pulling car over to the side of the road, too busy cursing himself because _fuck,_ damnit _how many times_ can he possibly break down over this before he's _done_ already, before he stops feeling useless and figures out what to _do_ about it. He drops his hand as he feels the car come to a stop, watching in confusion as Bucky puts the car in park and shoves his seat back.

“C'mere baby,” Bucky says softly, pulling gently on Tony's hand still linked with his as he wiggles the fingers of his other hand in obvious offer, and his voice is thick with emotion, almost _begging,_ as he adds “Please?”

All Tony can do is stare at him for a second, vision swimming while his heart gives a sharp twist, and then all at once Tony is lurching into motion. Before he's even aware that he's made a decision Tony is struggling to unlatch his seatbelt with trembling hands and then all but collapsing across the car. He's barely even landed in Bucky’s lap before strong arms are winding around him, arranging him comfortably and pulling him in close while Tony buries his face in Bucky’s shoulder, fights down the exhausted sob trying to build in his chest.

One of Bucky's hands runs up and down Tony's back in slow, soothing motions, his face tucked down into Tony's hair and his voice low and rough as he whispers “You’re safe baby, I promise. I’m gonna protect you, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Tony has to choke down a pained noise because the _last_ thing he wants is to need to be _protected,_ to drag Bucky into it because he's too damn weak to solve this on his own. “You haven’t seen what I have,” he says in a wet, shaking voice, trying to make Bucky _understand,_ “He’s _coming,_ and he can’t be stopped.”

“Baby, it doesn’t matter who he is, I won’t ever let him hurt you," Bucky says as he continues rubbing his wide, warm palm along Tony's back, and he definitely _sounds_ certain about it, for all that he's pretty sure Bucky has no clue what Tony is talking about. After all, why _would_ anyone waste time telling him about Tony's crackpot theory that almost ended the world? "We’ll stop him, I promise," Bucky contines, like he really means it, like it doesn't _matter_ what Tony is talking about, "You don’t gotta be in this fight alone.”

He _is_ though, Tony is alone in the lingering terror of what he's seen, in trying to stop it. He can't even get anyone to _believe_ him, he can't make anyone understand that they need to be ready and he _really is_ alone in this. Tony presses his face harder into Bucky's shoulder with a broken sound, squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the tears trying to gather behind his lids.

Bucky just holds him tighter, still rubbing Tony's back and softly humming along with the music and Tony has to fight down another sob because he _knows_ that Bucky doesn’t really mean it, he _knows_ Bucky doesn’t actually want to get dragged into another fight. Bucky is just trying to calm him down and Tony can’t exactly blame him, he’s just trying to make a new life for himself and in no way signed up for Tony breaking down on him every other week. Tony doesn’t _want_ to drag him into it, doesn’t want Bucky to _have_ to comfort him.

That doesn’t mean it’s not _working,_ though. Tony can slowly feel his heartbeat slowing and his breath evening out as he sinks into letting himself feel like he’s not alone, at least for a little while.

Once he can manage a full breath again Tony knows he should move back to his own seat, try to act like he’s _not_ just a collection of loosely held together pieces, but just as he’s working up the energy to actually move Bucky’s hands slides up to massage his neck, fingers digging into the tense muscle before sliding up into his hair and then down again. Tony lets out a soft sigh and instead goes completely limp, leaning heavily into Bucky’s chest and taking a deep breath as he lets himself slowly sink into the scent of paint and sweat and _Bucky,_ slowly melting more and more under Bucky’s strong fingers.

Everything goes a little fuzzy as the exhaustion that Tony has been trying to ignore rushes over him like a tidal wave, and he has no idea how long they sit there before Bucky finally moves again.

Tony mumbles out half formed protests as Bucky clearly tries to direct him back to his own side of the car, because he had been _so warm,_ even the top-notch seat heaters can’t compare. When he squints one eye open in a weak glare Bucky just smiles softly and continues helping Tony back into his own seat, supporting most of his weight when Tony’s sleep-heavy limbs refuse to cooperate.

“I know baby, I wanna keep cuddling you, but we gotta get back to the city,” Bucky says, and the hint of a smirk lingering at the corner of his lips along with the words have Tony’s stomach giving a happy little jump even as he does his best to pout.

Bucky’s knuckles brush over his cheek, and then Bucky smiles a little wider and Tony’s heart gives an extra hard thump as Bucky leans over to kiss him, light and sweet, stealing the air from his lungs.

“Close your eyes baby,” Bucky whispers, lips warm and soft as he presses them to Tony’s temple, “I’ll protect you.”

Tony lets himself believe it, lets himself just continue feeling warm and _safe_ for a little while. He sighs softly through his nose as Bucky pulls away, relaxing back into the seat as he watches Bucky struggle with his flannel through heavy-lidded eyes.

He’s too surprised and relaxed to react at first when Bucky drapes the shirt over his chest, and Tony hesitates for a second as he considers pointing out that if he’s cold he could just turn on the heater. Then he gives in, pulls the flannel up under his chin and Tony’s eyes are barely open at all anymore as he takes a deep breath, relaxing even further at the scent and lingering warmth of Bucky wrapped around him.

Keeping his eyes open is a struggle as Bucky gets his seat readjusted and starts pulling out towards the road, but Tony can feel the cold and the fear already trying to creep up on him again. After a couple minutes of sluggish mental debate Tony decides they’re safely on the road at this point, and he can afford one more moment of weakness. Or he’s just too tired to care.

So he reaches out, brushes his fingers over the back of Bucky’s hand and then smiles hopefully when Bucky glances over at him. Bucky doesn’t brush him off though and Tony slowly steals Bucky’s hand from the wheel, pulling it in close to his chest and lacing their fingers together. Bucky still doesn’t pull away, just gives him a small, slightly wobbly smile, and Tony smiles back as he clings to Bucky’s hand a little tighter, tucks it in close to where he can feel his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest.

Between one yawn and the next Tony must fall asleep, because the next thing he knows Bucky is gently shaking him awake and Tony doesn’t remember dreaming at all. He makes a sleepy sound of protest and refuses to open his eyes, wants to stay in his warm, pleasant haze a little longer.

“I know baby, but you’re home, okay? You can go sleep in your bed,” Bucky says, the smile in his voice audible, and Tony reluctantly cracks his eyes open, blinking rapidly to try and clear the fog from his brain.

“Home?” he repeats, voice rough with sleep, and then finally looks away from Bucky’s face to take in their surroundings. The sky is dark, the sun fully set, and Tony blinks a little more as he points out ”Looks more like an alley.”

“Well, I figured you didn’t want me to be seen at the tower too often after that first time,” Bucky says with a bashful smile, “But I didn’t want you to have to worry about driving back from Brooklyn so…”

Tony frowns a little when Bucky trails off with a small shrug, because that doesn’t sit right with him at all. He’d picked Bucky up this morning, he can’t just drop him in the middle of Manhattan, and with that in mind Tony asks “But how are you getting home?”

“I’ll take a cab,” Bucky says easily, and Tony doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until Bucky reaches out and presses the pad of his thumb to Tony’s lower lip, grinning fondly as he adds “Don’t you worry bout me baby, I always make it home safe.”

That’s not much better, Tony doesn’t know what time it is but he can’t imagine finding a cab will be easier than Tony just driving him home himself. He has a feeling Bucky will insist that he doesn’t need to, just because Tony is thirty percent still asleep, and after another second of thought Tony hopefully suggests “What if I send a car for you? Then I’ll know you made it ok.”

Bucky’s smile widens, expression warm as he nods and reaches out to cup Tony’s cheek, making Tony’s heart leap hopefully. “Yea okay doll, since you asked so sweetly,” Bucky says earnestly and Tony drops his gaze, clearing his throat as he busies himself with his seatbelt because he doesn’t know what to _do_ with that. It’s so much easier to throw money and things at people when they don’t try to _thank him_ afterwards.

Tony takes his time climbing out of the car, stretching slightly and trying to let his blush fade before he walks around to the driver’s side. He’s barely rounded the car when one of Bucky’s huge hands lands on his hip, pressing him back against the car gently and inescapably, and Tony sucks in a shaking gasp as Bucky steps in close against him.

“Now, you’re gonna go home and take a shower and go to sleep, right?” Bucky asks, firm but _warm,_ and there’s no command in his voice but Tony still finds himself nodding automatically, stomach lurching.

“Yes sir,” Tony says quickly, and his head finally stops bobbing stupidly as it occurs to him that the more he wakes up the more he knows he’s not going to be able to fall back asleep so easily, it won’t be the _same_ alone in his bedroom, without Bucky there promising to keep him _safe._ “I... sometimes I have a hard time going back to sleep,” he admits slowly, stomach sinking a little, “But I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask baby,” Bucky says and his lips brush over Tony’s cheek with every word and the warm, approving tone of his voice settles something in Tony’s chest. Bucky nuzzles against his cheek before his lips press to the very corner of Tony’s mouth in a light, barely there touch that has all the air rushing out of Tony’s lungs in a soft sigh.

His hands land on Bucky’s hips, clinging as if the car against his back isn’t enough to support his weight and Tony tips his chin up hopefully, trying to chase the fleeting contact. Bucky’s lips brush lightly against Tony’s own, and then again, kissing him soft and sweet and when Bucky’s tongue flicks over his upper lip Tony gasps and arches into it, hands sliding up Bucky’s back and trying to pull him _closer._ Bucky leans into him a little heavier and kisses him a little harder, hands sliding under Tony’s shirt and spreading wide over his back, keeping his spine pulled into a sharp arch and Bucky can no doubt feel the hard shudder that runs through Tony’s entire body.

Bucky pulls away from the kiss before Tony can sink too far into it again, instead dropping short, sweet pecks all across Tony’s face until Tony can’t help but smile, his chest so full of warmth and affection that he thinks he might _burst._ Eventually Bucky nuzzles into his hair instead, one arm still around Tony’s waist holding him close while the other hand slides up to cup the back of his head, gently playing with his hair, and Tony tucks his own face down into the solid muscle of Bucky’s chest with a rough inhale.

“You make me so happy darlin, thank you for being so good and kind and sweet,” Bucky says quietly and Tony has to struggle to _breathe_ around the swell of pride in his chest that he makes Bucky _happy,_ the twist of his stomach over the fact that he’s been _good._ Bucky’s hand runs up and down his back and Tony barely even registers that he’s shaking slightly, much more interested in the way Bucky kisses his hair and repeats “Thank you doll.”

Tony nods helplessly, struggling to get his breath back and it _really_ doesn’t help that with his face still hidden in Bucky’s chest all he can see or smell is _Bucky._ “I want to be good for you,” Tony finally manages and his voice is still barely more than a whisper, “I want to make you happy sir.”

He forces himself to finally drag his gaze up and meet Bucky’s eyes again, licking his lips nervously because this is _important,_ and Tony always seems to screw up the important things.

“You’re a good man Bucky, and an amazing dom,” Tony manages to get out after a couple more seconds of hesitation, because it still breaks his heart a little bit that Bucky _doesn't know that._ He manages a weak, lopsided smile as he can’t help adding “I’m lucky.”

Tony kind of wants to laugh at how true that is, or maybe _sob,_ because he still doesn’t know _how_ he got so lucky. He’d mostly just been hoping to find someone at least a _little_ less awful than Ty and instead he got _Bucky,_ which Tony knows he should feel guilty about. Bucky is way more amazing and thoughtful than Tony deserves, but he’s too damn selfish to care, too selfish to do anything but lean into it and take everything he can get as Bucky drags a thumb over Tony’s lips and then kisses him again.

“I think we’re both lucky baby,” Bucky whispers back, lips still brushing against Tony’s with every word, “Luckiest damn day I ever had was when I got matched with you.” The way he says it has another choked noise rising in Tony’s chest, because he knows from anyone else they would mean the money, or the connections, the having a secret to hold over Tony’s head, but Bucky says it like he just means _Tony._

A wide smile spreads across Tony’s face, cheeks flushing again as he wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug. It lets Tony hide his face and misty eyes in the curve of Bucky’s throat again, lets him just breathe Bucky in a little bit longer and marvel at the feeling of being _wanted._

Bucky eventually pulls away with a soft, regretful look on his face, letting the cooler air rush between them and it can’t compare with the ball of warmth lingering in Tony’s chest. “Time to go,” Bucky says gently, nudging at Tony’s hip with one hand before letting it fall away and stepping a little further away, “Get some sleep and I’ll see you soon enough.”

Tony nods even as he pouts, because he vaguely knows that making out in random alleyways is a _bad_ idea, even if he can’t quite remember all the reasons _why_ right this second. Bucky stands beside the car while Tony drops into the driver’s seat, and once he’s finished adjusting the seat and mirrors Tony rolls down the window and gives Bucky a hopeful smirk, motioning for him to lean in.

As soon as Bucky is close enough Tony leans up and kisses him, _just once more,_ catches Bucky’s full lower lip between his teeth for just a moment and kisses him hungrily. He wants to give Bucky something to think about once he gets home, a reason to come back, to _remember him,_ and when he pulls away with a final drag of his teeth over Bucky’s lip the low groan that Bucky lets out has Tony grinning.

“Sweet dreams,” Tony says, teasingly innocent, and then smiles wider when Bucky’s eyes go a little darker.

“You too darlin,” Bucky says with a wink, then backs away from the car and Tony finally has to accept that it’s time to leave.

He waits until Bucky is safely out of the way before dragging in a deep breath and pulling out of the alley out onto the street. “Hey J,” Tony says and at least he doesn’t have to worry about this AI calling him out on his shaking voice, “Can you grab the address of this random alley and call a car out here to drive Bucky back to Brooklyn?”

“Of course sir,” JARVIS says, and then barely a minute later confirms that a car is on the way. Tony feels a goofy little smile growing on his face, still a little surprised Bucky accepted but so relieved at the thought of Bucky getting home in comfort.

The warmth in his chest lasts the entire drive back to the tower, and Tony is about to climb out of the car when he notices Bucky’s flannel, forgotten in the passenger seat. Tony hesitates for a second, because he should really give it back and he’s most likely to remember if he just leaves it in the car. On the other hand, he should probably _wash_ the flannel first, it’s covered in paint and at least 70% of it is Tony’s fault, so with that in mind he brings it upstairs with him.

He drops the flannel at the foot of the bed and then strips off his own paint covered clothes, leaving a trail behind him on his way to the shower where he stands under the hot water until he can barely keep his eyes open and he’s swaying on his feet.

Tony isn’t sure he actually got all the paint out of his hair, but he’s too tired to care as he finally drags himself out of the shower. Normally he’d head back down to the lab, try to get something done, but the ball of happy warmth in his chest hasn’t even started to fade and instead Tony just pulls on a pair of briefs and heads toward the bed.

The flannel is still sitting there innocently, and Tony doesn’t let himself think about it before he scoops up the worn-soft fabric and burrows his way beneath the blankets. The scent of Bucky’s soap and shampoo still clings to the shirt, and if Tony closes his eyes tightly he can almost pretend he can still feel the lingering warmth of Bucky's skin.

He falls asleep to the memory of Bucky’s arms wrapped tightly around him, the warmth and _safety_ of it, stomach pleasantly twisting at the thought of _next week,_ and maybe even a bunch of next weeks after that too. He sleeps peacefully, and if he dreams he doesn’t remember it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Everyone please do scream at HundredThousands for this STUNNING ART.](https://hundredthousands-art.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [And then go scream at Tiff for EQUALLY STUNNING ART WE ARE SO BLESSED.](https://tifftac.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!

**Author's Note:**

> Additional spoilery tags: aggressive amounts of making out like teenagers, some light dry humping, mentions of wax play and knife play


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